Running for my life

So, I wake up today feeling a little stiff but with a big smile on my face. I did the Race for Life yesterday. For anyone who hasn't either participated or spectated, it is a wonderful event. It kicks off around 10am with inspirational stories from survivors of different cancers. They each remind you what this event is for and how important all the sponsorship is for research purposes. Then there are clips shown on a huge screen of stories of those who didn't make it. Because everyone is facing the same way, you get the opportunity to read people's dedications pinned to their backs. I run this race for.... and a sea of different names, each a stranger to you yet each poignant in their own right. Everyone is there for the same reason and not many can say they didn't have a lump in their throat at one stage of the morning.

Just before the race began, a giant warm up took place and this really got people siked up to go. Being piped up to the start line felt like being part of something special and when the horn blasted to announce we were off, I was giddy as a kipper.

Myself and my sister were a little way back and so it took us a few minutes to actually get over the start line. We were amidst thousands of ladies all in pink and that alone was incentive to keep jogging as long as I could. Unfortunately, I had thought the race was going around the other direction of Arthurs Seat, this was what I had practiced, so was really concerned when everyone ran in the other direction. That meant the steep bit of hill to begin. It was a gentle running pace though as there were just so many people. And quite quickly people began slowing down and walking. I kept going with my sister saying constantly 'we're nearly there' 'you've nearly made it to the top'. And I did make it to the top without stopping. I was so red and so hot but I had never imagined being able to do it. So, only another 4km to go. Back on the flat I had the chance to catch my breath again and was pleased about overtaking a good few people. Not that I was trying to get a good time - I don't even know what a good time is. I just wanted to jog all the way if I could. A couple of moments around the top just caught me out and I had to slow it down to catch my breath. My sister was fantastic though, distracting me with stories of things I can't even remember now and telling me to keep going. As soon as we had come to the downhill I knew I had done it. By the finish line I had nothing left in me and my sister tried to make me sprint which I could only do for three seconds. I was exhausted.

That was the biggest achievement for me. I realise it isn't far but for me, who four months ago had never jogged at all, it is huge. I am now planning my next run and racking my brains for something else I can't do that by Christmas I will.

The photo of me shows just how knackered I was at the end and it isn't very flattering but I really don't care a jot as when I look at the picture I think 'you did it, well done you'.