M - 4: The Fear
It's hit. I always thought it was coming, and am a bit surprised it's taken so long to arrive. I'm officially scared now.
It's taper madness. The less I run the more I think about running. I sit on the bus home from work and I'm actually jealous of people just out running for the fun of it. My mind is constantly consumed by thoughts of Berlin, and I can't concentrate on anything else. Once I've run out of sensible, rational thoughts (like what I need to remember to pack), I start to move onto the irrational unhelpful ones. That's where the problems start.
When your rational fears get mixed up with your irrational ones it gets out of control. It's one thing worrying about your ability to run 26.2 miles, but I suspect that, however much the thought scares me, if I can't do it it at least won't be because I gain 106lb between now and Sunday. But still, that thought crosses my mind. What if I wake up obese on Sunday? What if this has all been a dream, and at the last minute the evil weight gain fairy decides to pay me a visit. It's not a realistic possibility, and it's irrational, but the dark heart of my fear stems from the fact that the old me wouldn't have been able to attempt this, without taking account of the fact that the new me can. So I regress back in my mind to the old me, to a time when I stayed within my physical limitations without deciding to do anything stupid like marathon running.
My rational brain is trying to persuade my irrational screaming coward that it's OK. I won't break any records, and I may well need walk breaks, but I'll get round. I've done enough training to manage that. There is no reason to think I'm any less prepared than a lot of other people lining up at the start, and I've certainly done more than Jade Goody managed before London. (Mind you, I'm not intending to drop out after 18 miles either). I've trained relatively on schedule, although I've cut a few miles here and there, but I've done 4 runs between 17 and 20 miles, and that's not too bad.
I think that part of it stems from the isolation I'm feeling at the moment. I don't really know anyone in real life who has gone through this whole thing. I know a runner, but not people who are trying to do a marathon on such a quick turnaround from absolute couch potato. Two years ago I was 100lb heavier than I am now. I sometimes forget how quick the whole process has been, and that excites and scares me at the same time. In my brain it seems like it would have been a different experience to do it if you were already fit in the first place, and anyway, he doesn't seem particularly interested in my run. We're not particularly good friends, and every time I mention it he reacts like it's news to him that he's hearing for the first time. I wouldn't feel comfortable having a heart to heart with him at this stage. The truth is that this matters more to me than it does to anyone else. Much more. Of course there are people who are interested, but they don't all realise how big it is. How I used to sit there watching marathons on tv when I was eighteen and a half stone just wishing that one day I'd be fit enough to do that. How on Sunday I'm going to take on the biggest "unattainable" challenge I ever had.
I love travelling alone usually, but part of me is dreading Saturday night, as I sit alone in Berlin with a sense of impending doom. I don't want to be wasting my carefully stored energy on panic attacks or hysteria. There are times when I want a real life, tangible hug or kick up the arse rather than an online or remotely issued one. There aren't many times, but I'm starting to suspect that this is one of them. I keep telling myself that the achievement will be all the more special for having done it all myself, but that doesn't replace the fact that at 6am or so on Sunday morning I'll wake up alone in a hotel bedroom in Germany scared of what I've got to do and with no-one to snap me out of it.
I'm really hoping I get to meet up with some of the RW forumites before the race, maybe on the flight (there are some on my flight). Not that they'll be staying in my hotel bedroom, but at least I'll be able to talk to someone on the Saturday about my fears without seeming like a total nutcase, and remind myself that other people are going through the same things.
I'm sure this is natural. If it was easy everyone would do it. If it was easy the training wouldn't have dominated the last 6 months of my life. If it was easy it wouldn't be special. It's just that it's suddenly dawned on me that (other than a light 2 mile jog) the next time I put those trainers on I'll really have to do it, rather than just talking and thinking about it. All the talk and self analysis and training in the world can't replicate the reality of 36,000 people and 26.2 miles.
It's taper madness. The less I run the more I think about running. I sit on the bus home from work and I'm actually jealous of people just out running for the fun of it. My mind is constantly consumed by thoughts of Berlin, and I can't concentrate on anything else. Once I've run out of sensible, rational thoughts (like what I need to remember to pack), I start to move onto the irrational unhelpful ones. That's where the problems start.
When your rational fears get mixed up with your irrational ones it gets out of control. It's one thing worrying about your ability to run 26.2 miles, but I suspect that, however much the thought scares me, if I can't do it it at least won't be because I gain 106lb between now and Sunday. But still, that thought crosses my mind. What if I wake up obese on Sunday? What if this has all been a dream, and at the last minute the evil weight gain fairy decides to pay me a visit. It's not a realistic possibility, and it's irrational, but the dark heart of my fear stems from the fact that the old me wouldn't have been able to attempt this, without taking account of the fact that the new me can. So I regress back in my mind to the old me, to a time when I stayed within my physical limitations without deciding to do anything stupid like marathon running.
My rational brain is trying to persuade my irrational screaming coward that it's OK. I won't break any records, and I may well need walk breaks, but I'll get round. I've done enough training to manage that. There is no reason to think I'm any less prepared than a lot of other people lining up at the start, and I've certainly done more than Jade Goody managed before London. (Mind you, I'm not intending to drop out after 18 miles either). I've trained relatively on schedule, although I've cut a few miles here and there, but I've done 4 runs between 17 and 20 miles, and that's not too bad.
I think that part of it stems from the isolation I'm feeling at the moment. I don't really know anyone in real life who has gone through this whole thing. I know a runner, but not people who are trying to do a marathon on such a quick turnaround from absolute couch potato. Two years ago I was 100lb heavier than I am now. I sometimes forget how quick the whole process has been, and that excites and scares me at the same time. In my brain it seems like it would have been a different experience to do it if you were already fit in the first place, and anyway, he doesn't seem particularly interested in my run. We're not particularly good friends, and every time I mention it he reacts like it's news to him that he's hearing for the first time. I wouldn't feel comfortable having a heart to heart with him at this stage. The truth is that this matters more to me than it does to anyone else. Much more. Of course there are people who are interested, but they don't all realise how big it is. How I used to sit there watching marathons on tv when I was eighteen and a half stone just wishing that one day I'd be fit enough to do that. How on Sunday I'm going to take on the biggest "unattainable" challenge I ever had.
I love travelling alone usually, but part of me is dreading Saturday night, as I sit alone in Berlin with a sense of impending doom. I don't want to be wasting my carefully stored energy on panic attacks or hysteria. There are times when I want a real life, tangible hug or kick up the arse rather than an online or remotely issued one. There aren't many times, but I'm starting to suspect that this is one of them. I keep telling myself that the achievement will be all the more special for having done it all myself, but that doesn't replace the fact that at 6am or so on Sunday morning I'll wake up alone in a hotel bedroom in Germany scared of what I've got to do and with no-one to snap me out of it.
I'm really hoping I get to meet up with some of the RW forumites before the race, maybe on the flight (there are some on my flight). Not that they'll be staying in my hotel bedroom, but at least I'll be able to talk to someone on the Saturday about my fears without seeming like a total nutcase, and remind myself that other people are going through the same things.
I'm sure this is natural. If it was easy everyone would do it. If it was easy the training wouldn't have dominated the last 6 months of my life. If it was easy it wouldn't be special. It's just that it's suddenly dawned on me that (other than a light 2 mile jog) the next time I put those trainers on I'll really have to do it, rather than just talking and thinking about it. All the talk and self analysis and training in the world can't replicate the reality of 36,000 people and 26.2 miles.
posted by YP at 8:38 PM
2 Comments:
::The truth is that this matters more to me than it does to anyone else::
All the better. You'll be doing it for you and no one else. I think thats the most important thing there.
And you arent alone. I feel the same way. I actually blogged about it here while back. About how I read blogs of people that do have a huge support staff and how I am not one of them. I've done the training alone. And now I will run my race alone.
Its just the way it should be.
I wish I could say something to make you feel better. But i can't as really, I don't know what you're feeling. I do know that by reading your blog, you are very dedicated and inspiring! I know you will make it. Good Luck and Ill be thinking of you and berlin!
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