This Thing, It's Taking Over My Life

I was chatting to our receptionists this evening. About half way through evening surgery, I realised that I'd been dating things incorrectly all day. I'd been writing "19.03.09" on things. Observant types amongst you will notice that today is the 20th.

"Oh dear, Cathy, " said one of the receptionists, "What's the matter with you? Oh, I know what it is, it's all this running, that 17 miles yesterday has addled your brain!".

She may not be far wrong. Marathon training does take over your life. If you're not actually running, you're recovering from running - stretching those aching muscles, taking nice long hot baths, and possibly hobbling around a bit for 24 hours. If you're not recovering from running, you're thinking about running - how far you're going on your next run, where you'll go, what drinks/gels you need to take with you. If you're not thinking about running, you're eating or drinking for running - taking on protein immediately after a long run, stocking up on the carbs, making sure you're well hydrated with electrolyte drink, or making sure you're energised-up for a run with energy drink. If you're not eating and drinking about running, you're talking about it and getting people to sponsor you for the Big Race. If you're not talking or fundraising, you're probably dreaming about running. If you're not dreaming about it, you're probably engaging in some positive mental visualisation by imagining your perfect race, or perhaps (dare I say it) visualising yourself crossing the finishing line in London.

I also now appear to have regressed and lost the ability to drink from anything other than a bottle. Currently, my SIS bottle is sitting next to me, filled with orange squash. There is no logical reason for this. I could drink it from a pint glass (except for the fact that there is more than a pint in the bottle). I seem to have become surgically attached to the bottle. It's a very nice bottle, but this habit could put me in a bit of bother in a posh restaurant, for example.

Thankfully, I am still able to drink tea and coffee from mugs.

And this morning, my FLM race number arrived.

It's amazing how your perspective changes. For years, I have watched the London Marathon on the TV and been sort of inspired by it. I've nebulously thought, "I could do that" in a kind of I-must-get-fitter fashion, but never really thought of really doing it. It was always something that someone else did. No-one I knew had ever run a marathon. The furthest my Dad and brother ever ran when they were running together during my teens was a 10k race. For quite a long time, 10K was some huge unattainable distance for me. Now, it's a short run. And in a moment of vague insanity, I entered the ballot for the London Marathon in May of last year. I think my mindset was more, "I'll try, and well, I probably won't get in". The odds are certainly against you getting in the first time you apply through the ballot system. And I didn't get it. But then a tiny mad thought entered my head, and, in one of those brief flashes of insanity that seem to creep into my life now and then, I emailed Francine Heggie at Asthma UK with a "business case" for them giving me a Golden Bond place. I sent it not really thinking that much would come of it.

Then, of course, she phoned me up and the rest is history.

And this morning it really hit home.

Oh my God, I'm running the London Marathon.