15 weeks ago I started training for 6 Inch.
Scott emailed me a training plan that would get me to the start line. He admitted that the 15 week time frame was a little bit tight, but he was confident I could at least give it a try. It would mean no “falling off the wagon” and losing a week or two of training. It would mean doing the damn hills if he said do the damn hills. It would mean taking it easy so I didn’t hurt myself. It would mean just seeing how my knee (and indeed the rest of my body) would hold up.
Two weeks later I finally cracked the sweet sweet goodness of the mid-foot strike. Yes. 2 weeks into a 15 week ultra trail marathon training plan and I started a transition into a MFS. My calves raged at me; suffering the huge indignity of being properly engaged for the first time ever.
Day 4 of the MFS transition and I couldn’t even make 2km into parkrun before the DOMS in my calves quite literally stopped me in my tracks. I had to walk the rest of the way. I felt a bit shattered.
Over the following weeks I nudged my calves into superhero mode. Calves… ACTIVATE! Weeks and weeks of running them out and I could finally get out of bed in the morning without my legs buckling underneath me with surprise morning “my legs don’t fucking work” pain… Although I did provide some amusement for my husband and work colleagues (I’ll admit it was pretty funny the day I got up too quickly out of my office chair, took two steps and fell on my face because my legs wouldn’t play ball) I was happy to finally get over the “newbie” MFS. I am now a confident mid foot striker.
In September all I thought about preparing for this race as that you get a training plan, you complete the training plan and then you run the race.That’s about as much thought as I’d put into this “journey” in September. You just do the training and then you line up and run your race and hope you get the time you want. Pretty basic.
That is not correct.
There is nothing basic about training like this, and I’m not talking about the body hits. My body has survived about 500km in the past 3 and a half months.
I did not realise how emotional this would be. I have had some huge wins, some great times, some amazing runs. And I have had some very low lows. Doubts. Confusion. Disappointment. I have fended off those saying “why would you even want to do this?” and “you know you could die in a bushfire” and “you’re running again?”. And in my army against the disbelievers I have some excellent friends. A whole community of people who continue to say “you are awesome” and “look how far you’ve come” and “let me help you make it” and “come run with us” and probably most importantly “we understand”.
As I enter my second tapering week, my emotions have strapped themselves into the front seats of a roller coaster usually reserved for adolescent girls. In the space of an hour I can go from elated to severe self doubt. I swing from loving myself sick to feeling overwhelmed and small. I am up and bloody down and sideways for fuck sake. How can you feel so awesome one minute and then suddenly go “oh wait… maybe I haven’t actually done enough training”. I think about runs I missed. I think about whether or not I’ve run enough hills? Have I? Didn’t I? Can I really make my goal time? Is it ok if I don’t? IS IT??????
Having not yet run this kind of race, I am looking forward to learning how it’s going to make me feel. I was skeptical when Scott started telling me it would be a very personal experience, almost spiritual. How could that be? It’s just a big long run. But as a nudge closer and closer to the 21st of December I am beginning to realise what Scott means. This run is going to be epic. For me. It will be MY run. It will be all mine. Just for me. It will be MY joy. It will be MY pain. It will be ME who gets me to the finish. Nobody can do this for me. Am I good enough? Have I done enough? We’ll have to wait and see.
toughmudderof4 