The Women Can was by far the hardest and bravest thing that I have ever done. Please don't misunderstand though, the training was a dream, it was just the actual marathon itself that hurt. Let me explain, with every training session came an enormous sense of achievement, be it distance, speed, hill work or facing the great British winter weather, every time my run ended I felt good. There was very little pressure with the training, if I needed to do 18 miles for example but started struggling then I would just stop, breath, self talk and carry on. If I needed the toilet then I'd simply find a bush (I know but this shit is real), if pain got too bad I could always make a phone call and get picked up. It became more and more apparent over time that running was my escape, means of clearing my mind and I was really enjoying the process. Yep, I totally had this and felt confident that I could run the 26.2 miles on the big day, running was my new love and I felt that I was pretty good at it at this stage.
The race started positively for me, I was joined by a new but great friend who also has a chronic illness (far worse than me), we weren't chasing a time we just wanted to achieve, to get it done was the reason that we were both running, so that we knew we could. The sun was shining, the excitement and nervousness was on point, everything was going to be wonderful and all that we had hoped for.
For the first 12 miles I'd say that my smiles were pretty genuine, the adventure was still exciting up until I saw part of, and remembered the 2 mile hill stretch that was coming my way. That little stubborn cow that I have inside me decided to show its face at this point (much to my regret) and kept me running while everyone else around me took the wise decision to slow down and walk. From this moment on the marathon became a beast for me. Feeling overwhelming pains in my chest and my ribs were agonising and caused me to stop on many occasions, I just wanted it to end and slowly became riddled with emotions that were completely new to me. How could I let a simple stomach cramp ruin me like this, why couldn't I just run through it, was something wrong with me? This went on for another 5 or so miles until we hit the long awaited downhill segment. Oh joy you would think wouldn't you? but oh no, new challenge new pains. Now my toes were on fire, every step seemed to cripple my feet, join that with the upper body pains and I just wanted to crawl in a little ball and start crying my eyes out.
Now was the time where I had to rely on inner strength, when the mental side of running (and that is 90% of it) has to step up and take control. And that it did, allowing me to cross the finish line, holding my son by the hand, 5 hours and 2 minutes later and thank the lord above for that. This was by far one of the hardest mental battles I have ever experienced and I put a lot of it down to self sabotage. I put far to much pressure on myself as things got tough, constant self talk that I was failing at something that I should really be good at, maybe I wasn't good enough after all. That devil on my shoulder simply wouldn't shut the fuck up, you can't do it, you hurt, you're weak and you are letting a petty stomach cramp slow you down and drag you under. Join that with the stubborn cow I talked of earlier and it is no wonder I got myself in a bit of a pickle and ceased to enjoy the event when the going got tough.
Post-race depression kicked in from the moment I finished, believing everything I had told myself for 13 odd miles was difficult to overcome. But overcome it I did, within 2 days I was all ready to do it again because after all, I was strong, I did get through the tough of it, I did finish the race, this girl did good and as always, we never fail, we just learn and that is exactly what I did. It turns out that my upper body pain was in fact an MS hug, no doubt many can relate to this. If I had only done my 'MS research' pre race then I am very confident that it would have completely changed the game for me. Knowledge is key and if I had had more of it then I would have flogged my stubborn side from the off. It turns out that I just needed to slow done and chill out rather than beat myself up and keep running because I thought I was a looser if I didn't.
The whole reason I chose to take part in the Women Can was because I have a chronic illness but I feel that I am stronger than it and had something to prove. Turns out that the lesson for me is that I am far better off working with my illness instead of against it. It is always going to be there and show is face when it so desires, so for me, the best way is to smile back at it but slowly keep going, never give up.
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