Yesterday I ran the furthest I’ve ever run in my life. 13 miles or 21km around Reading. The first 10miles were fairly enjoyable, with people cheering along the whole route, giving out free sweets and lots of water available. The struggle was then the last 3 miles where my legs felt like Jelly and my feet wanting to fall off.
Mental preparation was key – I went in knowing that I could do this, it didn’t matter the time, but that I could succeed, then secondly if I beat 2hrs 30 I would feel more achievement.
Of course, I set off too fast, I was amped, feeling the best I could, the sun was shining I had my partner with me and my first 2 miles were the fastest. I then progressed to slow down, walking up the big hills because I didn’t want to tire myself out. I’d gone from a 9.38 min mile to a 11.48mile by the end. I’d messaged my friend earlier that day saying “Slow and Steady wins the race” I didn’t take my own advice!
It turns out that you run more than 13 miles or 21km in a half marathon. I ended up running 13.9miles or 22.4km, more than I had anticipated, with an average pace of 10min mile and final finish time of 2hrs 21mins – Something I am very proud off.
This is not something I did just for ‘fun’ it was another challenge along my Homeward Bound journey for fundraising. (Which in fact is turning out to be the most physically active year of my life!) But in actual fact, I think I did it because I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. That I could run the distance and could survive. And I did.