Halfway there!!

Halfway there

Eight weeks down and eight weeks to go. Yay! That means I am exactly halfway through the training.

Halfway is like half-time. It’s like ‘intermission’ at the movies. Time for the oranges. Or an ice cream. It’s time to change ends. To watch the ads. 

Time for the coach to start ranting and raving. . .  

Let the team talk commence!

Half-time is when people stop and stretch their legs and take a breather. It’s when the cheerleaders come on and get everyone hyped up. It’s when people queue for the loo.

For me it’s time for a nice bowl of fat greasy chips. And some bubbles to toast the past eight weeks’ effort. Hallelujah, bottoms up and cheers to the training so far. 

It is fortuitous then, that I have also recently had a very significant birthday. One that I can’t let slip by unacknowledged. And, adverse as I am to taking centre stage on these occasions, I reckon I have to do SOMETHING. And SOMETHING usually involves a glass or two of merlot, lots of fatty tucker and much chattering on about a load of old nonsense with a few good and forgiving friends. It also traditionally involves late nights, sore heads, and messy beds, which are not generally conducive to good training. You can’t burn the candle at both ends when your latest birthday has a six in it. Well, not without paying the price!

Reaching the halfway point in the training is actually kind of weird. Although I can see how far I’ve come I can also see how far there is to go. Bloody miles!! (But maybe I’m just looking at the world through ‘poo’ tinted spectacles.) 

I think you’ll agree that the first half of most things is generally easier than the second. Take life, for example. The first 50 years is obviously easier than the second. ‘Cause while babyhood and adolescence may have their problems I am betting they are nothing compared to middle age, menopause and senility. As the cliche goes -  it’s a ‘game of two halves’.

Recently, I have started to think of marathon training as a bit a ‘game of two halves’. Maybe you could even liken it to pregnancy. 

The first half of a pregnancy is full of glowing possibility. Do you remember? It’s all about trying parenthood on for size while the actual birth is miles away in the distance. The first bit is all about throwing a few names around and putting some fancy, completely impractical toys on layby.

It’s a time when all notions of giving birth are romantic and seen thru a blurry lens. All you can think of at this early stage is the glory and the joy. Thoughts of pushing the little tot gently out with some soft lighting and no pain relief is about as realistic as you get. (Which we all now know will never be the case!) 

It’s the same with the first stages of marathon training.

“I am going to run a marathon,” you confidently declare (despite having absolutely no realistic notion of how you will make this happen.) Never-the-less, plans are made, plane bookings organised and running shoes purchased. Your thoughts are romantically centred around what to wear, how you will feel when you cross the finish line, who you will hug at the end and where you will go for dinner afterwards.  You imagine the smile on your face as you chug merrily across the finish line. Training, at this stage, is just words on a page. Week one. . . week two. . . week seven. . .. It matters not.

Reality, as they say, is a million miles away. 

But now that you are halfway through your training things have become slightly more REAL. 

Now that you know how absolutely knackered you feel after running for two hours you are able to contemplate the reality of how you might feel after running for five hours. Yikes!

You wonder if smiling at the end may even be possible. You wonder if being there at the end may even be possible. You fear that any hugging will probably turn out to be more like flopping into some strangers arms (or St Johns attendant) and going out to dinner could actually be the very last thing on your mind. 

The halfway point is when reality sets in. What on earth were you thinking?! What drugs were you on when you signed that registration form. Honestly!!!

Still. . . you have never been a quitter. 

You have made it this far. And, whatever else you may think, you are halfway there!

At this point there is no going back! 

So lets just say ‘Cheers to the next half!’

And get on with it. . .