The Finish Line

I am on nightshift this weekend. One of the only good things about nightshift is that I get a glorious Friday all to myself before starting work at 10pm that night. Lately with all the running training the friday morning is taken up with a long run, which then paves the way for a very quiet book reading, movie watching nana-napping kind of an afternoon. This morning was no different, despite the ice on my next-door neighbour's roof being a massive turn off I laced my shoes for a 20km run.

So what do I do when I'm runnning, do I listen to music? No. I look around me at all the beautiful things. And I think.

This morning while running next to the ocean, along the river, underneath low flying planes near the airport, past the fancy mansions at the marina and eventually back home I spent the two hours mostly thinking about how far I have come in the past two years.

Over two years I have lost almost 18kg and have progressed from 7.5km being an epic run, to a regular 20km jaunt on the weekends, I even managed 30kms for the first time a couple of weeks ago. Yes, it has taken a long time, and no, it hasn't been easy. But I have done it.

I am only weeks away from my very first marathon now, and the thing I am starting to find the hardest is the mental fatigue. While I have become physically very strong, I am finding that my mind is beginning to waver. I constantly hover between believing I can do this and wanting to throw it all in.

The travel down memory lane that my head did this morning was very helpful. My brain reminded me that how I feel after a 25km run now, is how I felt after 14km a year ago. It reminded me that this time 12 months ago I was 7kgs heavier. It even reminded me how only just two months ago getting up at 5.30am in the middle of winter to fit in a 10km run before my girls wake up would have been unthinkable.

So I realise now, that the finish line is so close. I have come so very far, and yes it's hard, but I won't be giving up.