Running, Blogging and Rudyard Kipling

Hi

 

I just wanted to start by saying that one very nice person has sponsored me on my JustGiving page, but has done so anonymously.  This means that I don’t know who you are but on the off chance that you’re reading this… THANK YOU.

Whilst I admire anyone who runs a blog hugely for having the time, commitment, and, in all likelihoods, a talent worth blogging about, there’s something about it I find slightly cringe.  I think that I find the idea of putting my opinions out into the world as though they are verbatim, or even interesting, slightly narcissistic.  Why would anyone be even slightly bothered about what I think? Why do I even think? Shit.  Now everyone thinks that I think I’m an expert on running.  Blog doesn’t even look that good.  Oh my god, I must be really embarrassing myself here.  Go eat some cake and cry over a bikini.  Loser.  

I’m joking.  I don’t really cry over the idea of bikini season…. Being ginger the idea of me sunbathing is quite frankly ridiculous and I prefer cookies.

I want this blog to be a way of letting my friends, and anybody who might interested, know how training is going, and hopefully encourage people to get involved and find out about the marathon and Spinal Research.  However, when it came to writing a post last week I didn’t because I didn’t know what to write.  Telling the internet about the run I’d been on suddenly seemed pointless and boring and who would even bother reading it anyway.  This goes back to why would anybody want to read a blog written by me and where the hell is that cake. 

I think as soon as we do anything we don’t think of ourselves as doing it, but we compare ourselves to the people already doing it.  This applies to both blogging and running.  I don’t think of the fact that I’ve started a blog and my friend said she liked it (Cheers Suggy) or that when I go for a run I’m so much faster than I was a few years ago.  I think about the fact that people are so much better than me.

The honest answer is that if you’re reading this you’re probably related to me, a very good friend, or have already read all of the Daily Mail and StumbleUpon and are really very very bored, not because  you’re a running blog enthusiast-cum-connoisseur.   The idea that I’m being compared to professional bloggers and runners is probably quite silly.  Nobody is going to think that I think that I’m an expert on running.  I embarrass myself all the time anyway, why not broadcast it to the digital world?  May as well have some cake to celebrate.

Last week I ran seven miles slower than I have in ages.  I was bored, hot and unhappy and felt  like a total failure who was an idiot to sign up for a marathon when I can’t even run well.  This morning I ran just 4.7 miles… much faster than last week and I really enjoyed it.   But that doesn’t really matter.  What matters is that I went for a run when I didn’t want to.  That’s what’s going to help train me for a marathon, not running my best on every run I go on.

This was one of the many fantastic things about August.  She was phenomenally brave, but just so resilient.  She never complained or bragged.  She really did epitomise If by Rudyard Kipling.  That is what helped her train for a marathon a few years ago and this is what I want to hold on to the next time I have a grump because I didn’t run very quickly and now I have to go tell the internet about it.  Don’t complain, Just Do It.

 http://www.justgiving.com/Polly-Warrack1

If you can keep your head when all about you
  Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
  But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
  Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
  And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
  If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
  And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
  Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
  And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
  And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
  And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
  To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
  Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
  Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
  If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
  With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
  And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

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