If not now then when?

If not now, then when?

I managed to run my half marathon. It was a struggle to get to the starting line let alone run the course.

I started feeling a bit unwell on Friday, mildly feverish, a bit hot and cold with aches and pains and a running nose. I also had left hip pain and a right foot-arch pain giving me a bit of grief. There were plenty of voices – in my head and outside of it – suggesting that I pass on this race.

Even at bedtime on Saturday night I still had an element of doubt. I felt sore and a bit rotten. But my clothes were laid out, and my alarm was set.

I was still in a bit of a state of disbelief as I was driving down to Devonport on Sunday morning. I had downed my usual wake-up coffee and at the last minute I had made a snap decision, to throw together some Vogels and avocado toast, to chew on the drive down.

As I wasn’t feeling great I decided I needed some motivation, so I threw on a meaty chapter from a David Goggins’ audiobook – I might need a bit of extra determination in a few hours time.

I arrived an hour early. Nothing went wrong and I got a carpark close by, so I had about 30 minutes of waiting around and I could feel my nerves jangling. When I set off for my longer runs at home it had always felt a bit like the start of a journey. Sunday morning felt more like how I felt the time I entered a corporate boxing match. There was adrenalin to contend with – a dangerous companion when unchecked.

When the starting gun went it was very hard to not take off and burn through that adrenalin. But I got my head right early, and against my urges kept the reins tight as others streamed past me. There were pacers in the run – they had flags raised above their heads with times marked. I had it in my head that I would be happy with myself if I finished without having to walk the final kilometers, and very happy with myself if I finished in under 2 hours. The guy with the 2h 00’00” flag was ahead of me…. ‘He would have to wait’ I told myself, while I figured this out and got myself calm and in rhythm.

I guess I did figure it out because on an uphill somewhere in the first quarter of the course I passed the 2-hour guy and his band of 2-hour runners, and stayed ahead of them for the rest of the run.
I managed to finish my run in under 2 hours and while I won’t be breaking any records anytime soon, the whole thing was a really positive experience.

I was reflecting on my efforts to get to the finish line later that evening. I remembered there were some running bibs in a cupboard somewhere from past runs that I had entered but failed to start, let alone complete.

There was a bunch of 2021 bibs. Covid and lockdowns got in the way. There were 2022 bibs. I think I entered and then let my sore heel stop me from training and so I gave up.

Then there was Sunday. Finally, a finishers medal.

Sometimes we have to stop f@#king around and just get on with it.

If not now, then when?

A selection of bibs that never got used, and finally a finishers medal.

Looking cheesy as per… somewhere on North Head – it’s a smile not a grimace I promise.

Mid-flight at the Finish Line.