So after posting about my little marathon walk I’ve had people asking me why I would be putting myself through the pain and torment?
Well to tell you the truth I don’t know why. I did one 10km run in July and it has since become a fools errand of mine to do 12 runs in 12 months. Since then I have done a small 5Km, a walking marathon and another 5Km as a recover from the marathon.
For anyone who knows me I am not the athletic type but this ‘mission’ has become something of an obsession. I now own fitness monitors, crazily expensive shoes and lycra. LYCRA!
Why have I carried on going? To be shallow it’s the medals. Every wall I hit or muscle I tear I think of that medal up on my bookcase and I keep stumbling on. But running is also a painful kind of therapy; in between the thoughts ripping through my head of “ow” and “why am I doing this” my mind finds a similar kind of serenity I find when I meditate. I don’t know if it the rhythmic thud as my foot falls or the heavy and laboured in and out of my breathing but my mind drifts outwards and I can really think. The serenity stays with me until I need pee then that is all that is in my head.