https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/Mary-King4
The Royal Parks Half is predictably an absolutely beautiful course and we had a lovely sunny morning for it...ideal running conditions. I was NOT in ideal running condition due to my mild tendonitis, so my race "strategy" was a bit confused as I wavered between the attitude of "I'm just going to run through the pain and not care about the state of my tendon" versus "I will be sensible and walk the whole thing slowly to avoid further injury". I was determined that I WOULD complete the course and I'm proud to say that I succeeded in that.
After a unnecessarily long wait for the loos pre-run (I totally do not believe that "more queues = less time queuing" as the organisers claimed: one queue for multiple toilets, much better) I started off running with a friend who was aiming for a 2 hour 17 minute half-marathon (and who beat her target!) at a steady pace. I quickly realised I should drop back as I could feel twinges in my tendon and didn't want to unconsciously push myself too hard too soon by wanting to keep up with her, so I left her at Buckingham Palace and deliberately slowed myself down, letting hundreds of people pass me (and resisting telling runners and onlookers "it's not that I'm unfit...I've just got an injury! honest!"
I struggled with that need to justify myself throughout the 2 hours 47 minutes I took to complete the run, but kept telling myself that it wasn't a race. Well, actually it WAS a race but it wasn't a race where I (or anyone else) needed to compete on speed...and going fast is not what gives the activity its worth...and...things like that. I did slow jogging and first felt the need to slow to a walk as we went round the Aldwych. Both my hips, by this point, were pretty sore, and as I walked back up the Strand, the Mall and into Green Park I reflected that probably any physiotherapist would advise me to give up at this point. I cogitated on this option. I could just quit. Nothing bad would happen. Everyone would understand.
But the great run atmosphere, the huge range of people running for different charities and in memory of people who'd died or to celebrate people who hadn't died, the people there to cheer everybody on, the clearly massively unfit people who were nevertheless getting on with it and determined to finish...all of these convinced me that I should keep going.
I also thought about labour - I suppose this was an inevitable comparison for me to make as this was my maternity leave challenge, after all. I had a very long and slow labour which stretched from Friday night to Sunday night (Angel was born at 23:13 so it was very much a full weekend). I pretty much blame the stress of transferring to hospital on Sunday morning with slowing things down by about 12 hours...but mind you it had already been a pretty long labour (30 hours or so) before we even thought of going into hospital. I didn't give up then, did I? I asked myself as I power-walked towards Hyde Park. So I'm not going to give up now. (I also wondered what "giving up" in labour would actually constitute - it's pretty much a one-way process obviously).
So I determined to finish the race for Angel. My husband and a friend were there cheering me on at multiple points along the course, which also helped. I alternated slow jogging with fast walking and finished in under 3 hours, which was a big achievement in context. Additionally, writing this 4 days on, I do not seem to have worsened my tendonitis significantly which is good news!
The other important thing that I did on the half marathon was reflect on my life and on the biggest development we're going through at the moment, which is me gearing up to returning to work and settling Angel into her nursery. She's been settling in for an extended period, but this and last week have been the first times I've left her at nursery for almost full days - 9.30-4 as opposed to the full 8.30-5.30 - while I've been doing KIT days at work to prepare for starting teaching after half term. I've been absolutely wracked with guilt about it, constantly berating myself, feeling sick to the stomach and unable to relax or enjoy ANYTHING while apart from her. Thinking about this on the run (no guilt when I know she's with her daddy) I decided I need to assert some positive attitude around this. I have made the decisions I have about work and childcare and now I need to make the best of them. I like and trust the staff at nursery, and I need to accept that she is fine there and do what I can to enjoy the novelty of my baby-free time. I know I have a lot of power over my emotions and I am perfectly capable of thinking positively and being strong rather than wallowing in self-pity!
I've felt much better this week.
Now for lots and lots of gluteus strengthening exercises and no running for a few months and then hopefully I can get back to running properly. I'd quite like to do the same run again next year but I guess I need to wait and see how things go...
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