Yup. 8 weeks tomorrow and I will be running the Marathon. When I think about it a lump hits my throat and tears sting my eyes. I am excited beyond words, nervous and quietly determined. My mileage is nudging upwards to the 30 mile a week mark and I am definitely enjoying my rest days !!
Yesterday I sent out my second round of e-mails asking people to sponsor me and already 3 have replied pledging a total of £90. I am touched beyond words by peoples generosity - people who I may not have expected to reply to my e-mail, never mind sponsor me generously. The thing is, everyone has been affected by cancer in one way or another, and I think also, people know that the Marathon is a massive task.
Its strange how this journey has taken so many twists and turns. One minute I am up and confident, the next my body is telling me to stop for Goodness Sake. My head plays tricks on me - bringing me down to misery one day and the next absolute joy that I have completed a long run well.
I am so glad that I chose to do this. Yes, its the hardest thing I've ever done, relentless and exhausting, but the reward will be worth it. To raise this money for Breakthrough Breast Cancer will be amazing. To know that I can push myself to the edge of my ability will be amazing. I am under no illusion as to how hard this will be. Even with all the training, luck will play its part.
I keep thinking about that last 0.2 miles. If I can get round the 26 miles then that last 0.2 I want to savour with every ounce of my being ( and there are quite a few ounces !! ) At difficult parts of my runs I visualise myself making my way down the Mall - the crowd cheering, my family waving and calling my name - the finish there infront of me, my medal waiting for me. If I fail this I will be more gutted than... well, I can't fail. I will not fail. It is not an option. If I have to finish after every other runner, I will finish.
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