“I didn’t know I could run that slow!”
“You won’t be able to finish it!”, “It’s too soon!”, “Don’t make me laugh!”
From the day I decided to run my first marathon in my hometown I’ve been hearing this kind of stuff every, single, day …
….UNTIL LAST WEEK!
This marathon is the first of many – I hope – many other challenges.
Last Sunday, April the 19th, was held the IV Maratón Atlántica Coruña42. More than a thousand people running through the streets of my city, each and every one of them moved by different reasons. Mine:
I wanted to prove myself that anything is possible when you stop calling it “a dream” and you call it “a goal”
The race started at 8.30 am with two laps around the area of Oza, the same area I usually train when I’m in town. Flat, easy and quick. I got to the half of the race faster than I expected. Everyone were in a good mood, kidding and joking around. Even though it was so early in the morning many people approached to the streets to cheer us up!
The second half wasn’t so pleasent as the first one but hands down the most beautiful part of the race. Another two laps along the seashore with both sides of the streets full of people and friends. I tried to keep my pace and just slow down at the provisioning points (every 5 km) but I couldn’t…every little climb seemed much steeper than it really was.
There was a moment around km 34 where the idea of quitting crossed my mind, so many people getting ahead of me, so many doubts about my insufficient training (I lost several weeks due to some trips and a bike accident) and also the memory of not been able to finish the half marathon two months ago where I fainted… and yet, I thought in all that people behind me that were still fighting, so I kept running…for me, for the people who believe in me and the people who don’t!
Last mile was a good definition of joy, my friend Alejandro Larrauri ran with me along the packed and loud main street. I could not distinguish any face in the public, my legs didn’t hurt anymore and even started to speed up. I saw the light coming out under the arches of Maria Pita square. The noise of the people waiting for the athletes…
…and I crossed the arches, the sunlight shone on my face and there it was: the finish line!
I heard nothing, I had no control of my body, the girl who gave me the finisher medal told me something I didn’t hear and yes, I cried! I hugged my coach, my friend, the only one who believed in me from the very beginning and the person I ought the most: Xoana Roig. I don’t say it too often but I really appreciate what you’ve done. Thank you all!
That night, in bed, I recalled every day of training: the bad days, the good days …running in one or another city, running in the mountains or on track… I remembered the cold, the rain, the wind…so many hours running alone with my thoughts and I wondered whether it was worth it or not…
… so far, I cannot wait to my next challenge and repeat this moment!