is probably about right. If I started the London marathon now it would probably take me three years to do it. Not only because I would be stopping every ten seconds to photograph and instagram something but because, well, I am not Paula Radcliffe am I?
Every year I decide to get up early and watch the London marathon.
On the sofa
Whilst eating a bacon bap
I watch all these amazing people do amazing things for amazing reasons. Either their own personal reasons, or for those of a loved one. Or for a charity. The London marathon, is, after all, the day when more money is raised for charity than any other single day in the year.
As I pour myself a second cup of tea each year whilst watching the event I think “I wonder what it is like to be able to say you’ve done the marathon”. I think it’s a bit like Glastonbury, everybody should do it once.
But I don’t want to do Glastonbury.
I do, however, really fancy doing the marathon. For my own personal reasons really. Oh and to raise a shit tonne of money for charity but more of that nearer the time.
The time being, my fiftieth birthday in 2019. In three years.
Yep, little old “can’t even run for a bus” has set her sights on doing the London marathon in 2019. Now I am not certain of getting a place, I know that. Many people far fitter than me (and let’s face it, everybody is fitter than me) have failed year after year to get a place. But I am going to try. I might go for a charity place, if a charity for bloggers with a dodgy hip, buggered knees, chronic fatigue syndrome and an ankle that has never really recovered from falling down the stairs in Greece last year exists, well they would be my first choice.
And if I can’t get a place well I will still run a marathon that year. Even if it is just a case of getting up one morning and saying “today is the day”. There will be a day when I get up and run for just over 26 miles.
I have procrastinated for too long about running. Done all the prep: downloaded apps, made playlists, got a Fitbit, talked the talk, bought the shoes, checked the app, updated the playlists, charged the Fitbit, repeated the talk and looked at the shoes for three days.
It might seem strange that in a week where I have only blogged about fudge, that I am now talking about running a marathon in three years time. But it is precisely because of the fudge. I like food. I am not ashamed to say it, when I think too many people are ashamed to admit out loud that they do (but that is whole other blog post). I like going out for dinner. I like cooking things (I am still crap at it but God loves a trier), baking things, eating things. And if I want to keep on eating those things and don’t want to eat less, it stands to reason I have to move more.
Other people’s running stories are typically dull because they are personal to the person putting one foot in front of the other, so I don’t plan on blogging about this “journey”. God I hate that word. Why does everybody have to be on a sodding journey? We are all on a journey from birth to death, why do other people have to be on another journey at the same time?
Sorry, went off topic there.
But there you have it. I have said it now. Out loud. To you. And I can’t let you down.
And actually, I can’t let me down this time.
Since posting a pic of my running shoes on Instagram lots of people have mentioned that they fancy doing the same thing. I have set up a Facebook group for people who have run in the past and stopped, want to start, or want to join me in 2019 in doing a marathon for their 40th or 50th. Do come and join if you could like to. All very low key, but sharing tips, photos, and what we are up to with our running stories