The euphoria of finishing the Cardiff half lasted for a few days. My medal was proudly taken to show to colleagues and friends, and the t-shirt worn at every opportunity. I then made the small error of engaging in conversation with an ex about the experience. I mentioned that I had felt that I had a little more energy left inside me at the end, and that perhaps next time, I would be able to go a little faster, with a longer term aim of running a half in 2 hours 10 minutes. He told me that I should expect to be disappointed if I tried to go faster, as Cardiff is an “easy half” and I would be unlikely to beat the time that I had achieved.
I’ve not had anything other than positivity from everyone else that I encountered, but this one comment rather took the wind out of my sails, and I have struggled to get back into training with any real enthusiasm. Put this together with two chest infections requiring steroid inhalers, and my right arm in a plaster cast along with moving house, and it has been a difficult few months.
Mind you, the more I think about it, that particular chap has a special talent for managing to piss on the party. In the last six months or so, I have relocated my entire life to Devon, where I have a job that I love, and a cute little terraced house which makes me happy. He recently enquired how things were going, so I told him in much the same way as I have stated above. Most normal, rational people have just been happy for me, appreciating the five years of hard work it has taken me to get to this point.
His response? “Doesn’t it make you want children?”
Yes, why not point out the one “failing” that I have in his eyes, and virtually the only thing that I can do very little about in my present circumstances, and use it to take the edge of my happiness. I despair about the men that I meet; I don’t know I manage to find them, but that’s a whole separate blog. I’m just grateful that he is my ex, and I’m not stuck married to one of the many men that I have encountered with all the sensitivity and finesse of a gorilla eating a banana.
Anyway, I have been inspired by the fabulous Lliswerrians completing the Newport half, and having read all the reports on facebook, had wished I was there. I have also found a lovely running club not too far away from where I am living now and have enjoyed a couple of training sessions. With this is mind I have signed up to do the Plymouth half on 27th April, and have just done my first proper week of a 8 week training plan. My dad has also agreed to run it with me and not wanting to let him down, I'll stick with it.
I’ll end with the lesson learned from my recent experiences; choose your words carefully, and be kind. If you cannot be kind, be quiet.
Thanks for reading. As always, I am touched that you do.