CHECK. My first marathon. Oslo 2019. 42,4 K. I finished 5:26, with an overall tempo between 6-9.
Nothing really went down the way it coulda/woulda/shoulda, but not a suprise with the planning and mindset I had from the start. I’ve always been a rather spontaneous person, and have always loved a challnge. And I got what I asked for, and some more…
I also have to keep reminding myself, when miss competitive/have done sports all her life goes a bit crazy, that it was my first marathon. It’s classic, like “no it will be fine, I know my body, I know me”… But it doesn’t apply to everything. It helps, yes. But no matter how well you know yourself – you don’t know yourself in every situation. Even though I’m trained, my type 1 muscles wasn’t that trained. And so, we never really know anything that our body doesn’t (even though our mind might think it knows something)… So many more factors are included. And marathons are hard. So-freaking-hard-you-have-no-idea-until-you-do-it – kind of hard. It’s also pretty damn amazing, if you’re into having a loooong fight with yourself.
I’ve heard that some people get even more excited after their first marathon and can’t wait to race again. I am not one of those people. At least not in the near future…. The fact that I made it to the finish line without breaking down (well I broke down several times, but made it out alive in the end anyway) is accomplishment enough for me. Pretty damn great actually.
Process:
First 25 K went over expectation and I felt great, filled with joy and held a nice steady tempo. After that body started breaking down, especially my right side knee and hip that’s been bothering me before… But with some love and support from my beautiful man on the side on his bike I made it into the last 17,2 K, crying. Both knees wrapped with bandages. That amount of pain in my legs was new to me. Like someone trying to rip off my entire legs from my hip joint. I’m used to feeling light, but my legs felt so heavy I couldn’t lift them properly. Literally couldn’t. Even when my head was like “oh come on, it can’t be that bad. Just shut up and do it! Do it!”. Body was like “eh, helllll no.”. Then came the laughter. And the tears. And on I went. Trying to adapt and adjust my body min after min just to pull through to the finish line. Watching some people fly by while a lot of others struggled.
Got a nice text from a friend to keep going. My family was following my every step online and rooting for me. People watched with enthusiasm and sympathy, smiled and shouted. Everyone rooted for everyone. And the mutual struggle we all faced was beautiful to see, when you took a look around, for the fact that it was so out there for everyone to see, so open, raw and real. Impossible not to be.
During those last miles I have never experienced such a strong struggle between my body and mind. It really showed me how they work together – and against one another. It also made it so clear to me how we’re actually created and meant for different things in life. In movement. Genetically and biochemically we’re built differently. Isn’t that very very cool? It never cease to amaze me.
And so in the end, we did it anyway. Amazingly. Together. Me, myself and I. With a lot of beautiful support around me of course.
Check! Next!