The Boston Experience: 26.2 but how

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Pre-race @Athletes Village

So much of life depends on how you handle what is thrown your way. Too much of it has the power to define you, your ability, perspective, attitude and even cause you to question your belief in yourself..if you let it. My Boston run was everything I could never have anticipated.

As an athletic person – yes, that’s what I consider myself, not a pro by any means but one just the same – you always think you’re ready for the unexpected, you can deal, until it happens. By now you’re guessing it didn’t go down well, and you’re right, it didnt. No matter how prepared I told myself I was, I just was not prepared for my body to check out of the race hardly before it had begun. As it is, I will forever remember mile 4 as the point where my body not just disappointed me, but failed me miserably.

There are always reasons and excuses for not running a good time on any given race day and I will not fall into the trap of assigning blame. Frankly, I’m only interested in what can help me to understand what happened out there on the course, that no matter how hard I pushed or what I told myself during that run on Monday, I couldn’t get my body to co-operate with my mind. Maybe if I understand, there may be a way to make sure it never happens again. If you can, imagine running 22 miles with, not in, your mind; it was just about the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. It felt like a mile by mile battle of wits except I was fighting myself and could hardly understand why. This left me confused and unable to truly appreciate the course and crowds, which by all accounts were phenomenal and so typically Boston Strong. In all honesty, I cannot even blame my breathing issue, sure I had a bit of a struggle there, but it was not insurmountable, not like the unknown that I was faced with.

So what did I do? Well , I did what any one in my running shoes would, under those unknown circumstances, I ran with my head; my only thought to cross the finish line with some dignity. You may ask, at what cost? Well dearly I’ll say: an official finish time of 3:59:14 – no where close to my goal and so there goes my pride, my time, training and so many other little investments unrealised. Such high hopes and plans all dashed to pieces, pieces, by the grace of God I was able to pull together and drag to the finish.

Still, I’m thankful I have my life and limbs, with which I live to run again. My health though remains an open-ended question, I can only hope the doctor has good news as I’m in dire need of some just about now.

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