The monochromatic spreadsheet is no more. Ta dah!
Last Tuesday I used my first Golden Ticket, so kindly provided by my gauntlet-throwing friend to help me through what seemed like an interminable training regime when I started. It took me a good five minutes to hit send on the request message. It felt like failure.
I had neglected to get up early to run (to be honest, I’d forgotten about it – this is a sign that I am starting to get bored and I suspect I’m not the only one, right?), then I got called into work, got home from school pick ups at 4.15pm, was due at the Blood Bank for a plasma donation at 5.45pm and had to be at a rehearsal by 7.30pm. It takes me around half an hour to run 5km so technically I had time in between getting home and going to the Blood Bank but, in a significant step for me, I decided to be realistic and allow myself a moment of downtime. (Don’t die of shock.)
And while one part of me wanted to call me a failure, another part of me was feeling proud that I had been able to let go of perfection and be practical. (Are you still with me? Do I need the defibrillator?) And, when my Golden Ticket request was met with excitement, another part of me was so happy to have given joy to a friend who had taken the time to be so creative and supportive.
So it’s all good. Seriously.
Well, except for the knee trouble.
Who said that??
[Runner Me raises her hand sheepishly]
There is no knee trouble, got it?!?
[Runner Me shrugs and sneaks away, limping dramatically. ]
Oh, don’t be ridiculous! It’s not that bad!
Really. It’s not. Have a look at that spreadsheet.
See? There’s a second Red Letter Day. I ran my longest distance yet last Sunday. The training plan says 18km but I actually pushed it out to 19.1km. Two more kilometres and that half marathon is in the bag. In. The. Bag.
(Superstitious Me is screaming at me right now. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” She needs to chill.)
[Calls after Runner Me] There is no knee trouble!