First date

And so it comes to the endgame. The ritual of courtship almost over in this 2 year relationship between the road and I.
Almost exactly 2 years since I got off the couch and with the help of many from Le Cheile started on the journey to running my first 5 km around the streets and now running track in Leixlip.
That was blogged too...: http://jhshelley.blogspot.com/2012/05/and-finally-im-off-couch.html


And now, come Monday, it's a marathon.

Is it a mid-life crises, a bucket list or a promise to someone that got me to this point? No, or maybe a little of the yes to all.
Since starting running, my body and I have gotten closer. We know each other in finer detail, and if the pun of losing weight as a bonus can be excused - we're closer together now. Mind, though closer, that doesn't mean not ready to fall apart.

Little aches and gripes and nerves and muscles, all connecting together in a way that brings a familiarity, an awareness and a symbiotic respect. Sometimes needing minor counselling by way of anti-inflamatories, sometimes the artillary assistance of a physio.

And now, just before the 26.2 miles or 42 km climax, the idea of courtship and first date develops.
Where else could this happen. It's 4am, I'm awake typing a blog that could wait until a respectable hour. But no, it's on my mind now. I can't sleep. If these symptoms are not reminescient of an adolescent first - then I don't know, but thoughts of the impending nuptuals of a marathon first date, are never far from mind over the last weeks. Anxiety building slowly following recovery from a foot swelling, stopping mid-stride the training, until then, I was doing so well in. Nerves about what to wear on the first date, what to eat, what to drink. Will I bring some sweets, what if it's raining, will I make it all the way around. That optimistic sense as I trained out to 20km, displaced as I never managed to build enough past 30km, giving way to little doubts. One consolation and differing from a real 'date' - the wearing of runners and road-dirty ones at that, will not, I assume, be frowned upon.
Worry, founded or unfounded, Monday will have to wait and see !
I will be fine, most dates turn out fine, just take my time, don't push the distance, it'll be OK. Don't aim to compete - add an L, aim to complete. Be positive ! One foot in front of the other. Other cliches welcome !
I'm not stressed, just anxious. Stress brings sleepless sweat filled nights, I just have the sleepless, the sweat having been all used up along the roads to get here.
Will my first date lead to a second ? Maybe ? Never say no, but maybe just stay platonic, stick to holding hands around 10, maybe 20km.

Dublin ran it's first Marathon in 1980, I was twelve, going on thirteen. Almost forty six now. It's course then took it past my mothers house in Edenmore. The gang of us, friends, family, neighbours sat on the wall and cheered on the runners as they made their way past somewhere near the 20 mile mark I think we were. I distinctly remember helping a man then, suffering with calf cramps, either I hope I won't need, or some kind supporter might help me. One thing for sure, watching athletics and triathlons from within the circle over the last two years, has created in me a profound sense of respect for athletes, beginners as well as elite, for the physical effort they put themselves through. And if the courtship date/analogy is carried through - they do it for the love of it !

Every year, I see the marathon on Tv or you stand at the roadside shouting on the athletes. Always, since the first ran past the house, I thought I'ld love to do that. So not a bucket list - but an ambition or desire. Soon to be fulfilled, and if only it still went past Mums'.

Why go do a marathon at all ?
Well why the bloody hell not !