I really dislike “the first post.” It feels like a lot of pressure to write something witty, encouraging, inspiring, and, most importantly in the blog world, something that makes people want to read more. The reality is, that I want to use this as an online diary, filled with pictures, about what the heck I’m doing to myself over the coming years.
I ran my first marathon in April 2017, at the tender age of 37. I knew for years that I wanted to run a marathon at some point, but gave myself some defining parameters: it had to be a marathon with meaning to me. That meant it was likely going to be Paris or Boston. When my husband ran Paris in 2016, he’d already run Rome and Amsterdam, and I’d spectated each of them, but there was something magical about Paris; watching him come through at the 30km mark near the Eiffel Tower finally made me decide I wanted to be part of the action. So, after his race was over, I told him I was ready for my race to begin.
1 year and 3 days later, I ran Paris. It was hot, hard, and INCREDIBLE. I knew the moment I crossed the finish line I wanted to do that again. Good thing, because I had secured a ballot spot in Berlin for September.
I took many learnings from Paris, applied them to Berlin, and ran a 24-minute PB. Taking that hunger for improvement I knew I wanted even more. I signed up to run Valencia marathon as a 3rd race in 2017 to see how my body coped with that stress, and started planning for 2018, with a charity spot secured for London and a goal to hit the sub 4 marathon. One week before Valencia, I sprained my ankle missing the last step on the stairs in my flat. That small accident meant I missed out on a trip to sunny Valencia in November, but also meant that my sub 4 goal needed to be put on hold too. I’ll leave it there for now, and pick up the story from January when I was given the clear to start running again, and kick off my training for London.