Now. Let me start by saying absolutely everyone I met this morning at Ormskirk parkrun was brilliant and lovely.
I have been running since 2020 in lockdown. I am a big girl (5'8, 110kg) who has always hated exercise, and there is a lot of me to shift. I am confident and outgoing in every area of my life except exercise where I used to quickly revert to being the worst fourteen year old in my class, with all the accompanying thoughts of shame and failure. C25K has been brilliant- it's just me and my phone, taking my time and pacing myself as I wanted. I have completed it three times (injuries in between- but never having to go right back to the start) and have felt proud of myself, even though I am very, very slow.
The furthest I'd run this September was 3.6k but I noticed that my pace was starting to improve, and I switched to the 20-30-longer run pattern about three weeks ago, achieving 4.6k in 45 mins (including the 5min warm up and down) last Saturday.
So- when the weather looked so nice today I thought it might be time to try parkrun to get to 5k. I can walk the last bit, I thought. It'll probably be about 55mins- I checked, and Ormskirk last finishes were about that, so I wouldn't be on my own. Everyone else would be in their running gear so no-one would look at me oddly. Even typing that I realise how many demons I'm still carrying around with me about this whole running thing.
Other half was coming too but then was poorly this morning so I thought as I was up I'd go on my own. It was three degrees brrrr, but I made it with a minute to spare, and set off walking round to the start line. In hindsight, I should have used that walk as part of my warm up walk but I stuck to my plan, and as we set off I started my runkeeper and used the first five minutes to warm up. Almost everyone was in front of me but I was ok with that, I expected it, and I knew they had people walking so I wasn't alone.
Then as I started to run, the thoughts began.
"What on earth are you doing? You don't belong here. Look at these people.... they're all faster than you. You're terrible at this. You're the worst runner here by a long way...."
I am a logical person. I tried to counter each one.
"Of course I belong here, it's open to anyone. I may be the slowest but at least I've showed up. I am doing this. I can do this...."
By this time I was sobbing. Tears streaming down my face.
Well, reader- that was my parkrun. I literally cried all the way around. I cried when I decided to finish early because I was so ashamed of myself. I cried when I DIDN'T finish early and made myself carry on. I cried when I overtook the two walkers. I cried when they overtook me back. I cried when I realised that no-one was going home until the two walkers finished, and I could hear children's voices behind me so I knew I wasn't at the back (I didn't realise there was a a tail walker too until afterwards)
I cried when the sun was beating on my face. I cried when my legs were freezing cold.
I cried as I started the third loop. I walked up the hill. I ran down. I walked a bit and ran a bit and tried not to let the walkers get ahead of me. The third loop was better- there was no-one else there! I felt like I could be on my own, no-one running faster than me. The marshals encouraged me, the end was in sight.
Then I sprinted for the line. I overtook the two walkers. I cried as I told them I would never have finished it without them. I got my token. I scanned my barcode.
And I cried all the way home and for quite of lot of my shower and now again writing this too.
On paper this is the most amazing thing I've done.
My time came, it was 51.28. It's the fastest, the furthest, the longest- the everythingest I've ever, ever done. This time last year it would have been inconceivable. This time three months ago it would have been. I am so, so proud of myself. Were it not for all the crying I might even have been a bit faster!
But- mentally- well.... wow. I am utterly exhausted. I am at an absolute loss to know where all that horrible, nasty, disabling mental thought process came from, and what on earth to do about it. Imposter syndrome? Ghosts of School PE past? Seriously, all advice gratefully received. It was crippling and frustrating.
Anyway- I'm writing to say this. It's taken me three years, but today I did couch to actual 5k. I ran 5k. I. RAN. FIVE. K. So if you are at the start of your journey, or if you have been doing it for ages, slogging away like I did and getting nowhere..... keep going.
Just.... keep going.
(thank you to everyone who was kind to me in Ormskirk today, especially at the end when I thought my legs were going to go from under me. parkrun is a lovely event..... xx)
(the photo that says start is clearly at the end but it was the only sign I could find!!)