The first training run.

When I start jangling my charity tin in the near future, I would really like people to know that I spent the first Saturday of January getting up before it was light, battling rain and some quite scary winds, in order to complete my first 'proper' long training run.  That was yesterday and the run was 14 miles.

This is slightly further than I have ever run before.  My chosen route took me along Brighton seafront, to Saltdean Lido and back.

I had the strong wind against me on the way out, which I kept constantly reminding myself would be a good thing for the way back.  Which it was.  Which was a very good thing because I was really tired by then.

Actually, the first three-quarters of the run were absolutely fine.  Pleasant, even.  I watched the sun rise over the marina.  I didn't get shat on by any seagulls (it's happened before).  My thoughts were positive.

I enjoyed the certainty of it all.  I had even felt quite excited when I went to bed on Friday night, knowing that this run was going to happen, and that it 'had' to happen.  Usually, I just go as far as I fancy and this often means I don't push myself.  Now that I am following a training plan, and I intend to follow it to the letter so that I can feel I really did my best no matter what, there was no choice in the matter.  Sometimes it's nice to have no choice (except when it comes to abortion, of course).

I knew that I *had* to get a 14-mile run under my belt; that if I ballsed it up then it would completely wreck my training plan and my whole motivation.

'You just have to keep going,' I told myself in rhythm with my feet.  'You are the sort of person who does what she says she is going to do.'

This was really fun until the very last few miles; my little mantras were only for smugness rather than any necessary motivation.  But then for the last few miles, things became a lot less fun.  This may be because I was tired.  My feet, knees and hips hurt a little bit.  I was getting hungry.  Also, my route took me through the edges of some busy shopping areas towards the end - kind of unavoidable given where I live, but I may have to rethink this in some way, because having to navigate around people at this stage made me irrationally angry.  Like, Travis Bickle kind of angry.  (Is this normal?)

Strongest of all was a voice in my head that suddenly kicked in, telling me I was tired and that maybe I should walk for a bit.

'Why?' I asked myself, trying to be rational.  'You are not in agonising pain.  Your feet are still moving.  Your breathing is absolutely fine.  There is no reason for you to walk rather than run.'

But the voice wouldn't shut up, and my legs started listening.  It felt, weirdly, like there was almost nothing I could do to stop it.  Usually, if I'm tired, I try to pace down to a very slow jog - it's better than walking, because I know that I then find it hard to build momentum to start running again.

Annoyingly, I gave in and walked for a couple of minutes up a hill a mile or so from home.  Once on the flat, I resumed running again and carried on until the end - I actually felt a new surge of energy.  But then it was extra hard because I kept thinking about walking again and how nice it would be!

'They' say (apparently) that you run a marathon with your brain more than your legs.  Even with this first training run, I am starting to see how very true that is.  I need to be mentally strong, but I think I also need to figure out some ways to trick my brain into acquiescence.

I know it was my brain rather than my body giving up, because when I reached the end of my road and the finish line was in sight, I felt bizarrely energetic and even did an extra lap around the block before I went home.  I did the lot in about two-and-a-half hours.  I'd really like to work on this time, but it's more important to me that I run the whole course than make a time target.

When I got through the front door and stopped, I could feel that I had done a long run but I wasn't in any major pain.  By the time I'd done some stretches, eaten breakfast,  had a bath, put my onesie on - I felt totally elated.  I wanted to do it all again.  I couldn't wait for next week's long run and all the short ones in the meantime.  Then I had a nap and ate even more food.

This morning my knees ache slightly (again, is this normal?!) but I slept well (which is rare for me) and have woken up this morning feeling full of energy.  I am telling myself that the first run is done - I love ticking things off - and just to tackle it a run at a time.  Yeah?