Pain is Temporary, Pride is forever.

"There are people who have no bodies, only heads. And many athletes have no heads, only bodies. A champion is a man who has trained his body and his mind, who has learned to conquer pain for his own purposes. A great athlete is at peace with himself and at peace with the world; he has fulfilled himself. He envies nobody."

~Coach Sam Dee~

Sunday will always be a very difficult day to forget. It was a journey that started three years ago and peaked on the anniversary of my fathers passing. This is my story.

It was a day full of the highest emotion and pride. A day that was long and full of so many thoughts and feelings, yet there is no single word that could describe it and give it justice. The feeling is something you wish to share, yet it is very difficult. I will do my best.

I have spent years running casually, with the Melbourne Marathon in mind as a potential event to compete in one day. I say “compete”, as although there is no competing for the win, you are competing against all the darkest demons your body and especially mind can throw at you.

This year was the year I felt was the time to have a go.

Training was right on target. Pushing the extra mileage each week to take me to the 42km goal for race day. However I got sick a few weeks out. It was a nasty little chest infection that reduced my training to a dizzy mess after 5km. Not the kind of confidence I needed. 
I had to rest for the last few weeks leading into the run and knew once I reached the 30 km, I was in uncharted territory and anything could happen. I needed something special to get me through that last 12 km if my body couldn’t handle it. 
After all, any long distance runner will tell you 90% of the struggle is in the mind.

When the Friday before event day arrived I was beginning to feel a little edgy. This is when the mind starts to play games and it starts its 48-hour penetration of self-doubt. I was nearly losing the struggle but gripped onto every little bit of positivity I had and went about my weekend.

Saturday was an early rising and a visit to the memorial park to visit Dad. Still mind games running amok I sat there trying to find some peace and confidence. That little bit “extra” I was going to need.

I finished work on the Saturday and headed home. I had some food and chatted to Nat for a bit. I was feeling like I couldn't run 5 km. My mind and body were working against me. She again tried to restore some of my confidence and then it was time for some sleep.

Event morning came and the normal routine of nutrition. I was trying to keep very cool and keep the nerves at bay. I was feeling a bit better the day had arrived though. It was time to get to the ‘G’

I got some stretches out of the way and got to the line with a few minutes to spare. Just the way I like it, not much waiting around burning nervous energy.  Before I knew it we were off!

Over 6000 participants crossed the starting line all on their own journey and with a different purpose, all on a perfect Melbourne spring morning.

Strangely my longest event prior had been a half marathon and lots of things are felt; yet in this I really have nothing to say about the first 21 km.

It was a nice easy run down St. Kilda Road and around Albert Park. I found a very good easy pace and tried to sit on it to ensure I had something in the tank when I needed it.

I had made the 22 km mark and was not feeling any effects of being sick so was starting to feel a little more confidence. Though shortly after I felt a nice pop in my shoes, hoping it was just a blister I carried on though a little discomfort. Every time I would reach a first aid station, I would ask myself whether to get it checked but didn’t want to risk stopping and being held up for treatment and then not being able to get moving again. I was moving forward and that’s all I needed. One step at a time was bringing the finish closer.

The course was reasonably flat here but it was heading towards a turn around and all the other participants were already heading back. Usually this wouldn’t bother me, but knowing I had to still go all that way and then back again and then another 13 km. Ouch. Every time, you look up for the turn around all you can see is runners going the same way. No turn around in sight.  Oh wait there it is. Only 17 km to go. This is when the mind games started.

It was reasonably flat but had the feeling of a slow gruelling incline back towards St. Kilda. 

It was nice to see kids line the roads for high fives and handing out snakes and jelly babies through the course. Also the random strangers setting up their own drink stations for the runners. A big credit for all these people for their support, particularly around the back half of the course near St Kilda.

Finally I had gotten through the first bit of the pain, and had reached 30 km. A flat coast back along St. Kilda Road and run through the gardens and I’m nearly there. Got to stay positive! 
Unfortunately this seemed to mark the beginning of the end for a lot of participants. Some, including myself slowed to a walk through the next 5km. Some couldn’t handle the pain any longer and the gutters began to become littered with sore and sick runners, keeping the medics very busy. I hung in there but this is where I needed something 'extra'. The legs become very heavy and you begin to wonder if you will even make it. Even walking was painful. I think I felt a few more blisters pop.

I battered my way to 35 km and slowed to a walk again. I pulled my phone off my arm and messaged Nat - 35 km bleh!

She responded back and told me where she was. It was only a few km to her, and then a few more to the finish. Then she responded with a message my Mum had sent her. It got to me and I held back the tears. I wasn’t sad, I somehow knew I was going to get there, but it was going to hurt.

I picked up my stride. All of a sudden I was the only one running as we reached the gardens and the long climb to the 39 km mark. I started thinking of things and trying to push the pain out. The aching dead legs, the sore battered feet, the nausea, the sunburn.

I reached the 39 km marker. I knew Nat was just up ahead. I found strength and tried to keep pushing. When she caught my eye, she was waving and had a water bottle for me. I ran over to her and got pretty overwhelmed. I sucked back some water and air as she said some stuff to me. Then it was time to bring it home. She offered to walk with me for a bit but I declined.

The last 2 or so km were a feeling like no other. I could have had a broken leg, yet I would probably not have felt it. I fought every pain and took in every feeling running down along towards the MCG and onto the ground. To pass thousands of random people yelling for you and cheering you and telling you good effort as you hit the 42 km mark of a marathon is something you cant explain with words. It is isn't about distance. It is about overcoming the war, the shared struggle. It feels good, but not as good as the feeling of crossing that line and realising you have done it.  



That is a feeling I will hold and cherish forever......

See you on the track - follow your dreams

pathtoironman :)