Before I start…I know, I know, I know.
No one is remotely interested in my marathon journey except me.
Literally no-one.
My darling children are always very supportive.
Ditto my running friends in Delhi.
Ditto my running guru, Dr. Chauhan, on whose shoulders I regularly cry.
But that is a very, very small group of people, and (quite rightly) no-one is invested in me, other than me.
I accept it and fully “get” it.
For context, this weekend I should be in Mumbai running the marathon, but I’m not because…well, the plain fact of the matter is that I haven’t done the work. I am simply not up to scratch. So I’m not running.
Which is why I had a real pang when dear old Facebook shared my memory “on this day 10 years ago”.
I was getting ready to run my first ever marathon!!!
Like so:
I can remember everything about what was such a momentous and fun experience.
You only get to run your first marathon once (don’t roll your eyes – you KNOW exactly what I mean!!) and I’m so grateful that mine was in my favourite Indian city. I had an absolute blast, loved every second of it, and am feeling wretched at missing it this year.
I’m 10 years older than 2016.
I’ve had loads of silly niggles.
I’ve had cancer.
And, yes, I repeat, I’m 10 years older than the excited and slightly nervous me of a decade ago today.
But more than anything else, I haven’t trained properly, nor enough. And that is 100% my own fault.
Self-indulgent venting over.
Big girl pants on.
Looking to the future.
Over and out.