One half of a whole.


Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. My body hates me today, I feel like every work out I’ve ever done has come back to haunt me.  Why is the floor so far away? Typing hurts, sitting, hurts, walking, hurts, lying down hurts, stairs are my enemy.

I ran a half marathon yesterday, 21km. It was a truly epic experience. When I first decided to run  I honestly thought that the more I trained the more achievable the task would become but the closer the date got and the more kilometers I was putting on the clock the bigger the undertaking seemed to become.

The sun was shining on the heaving mass behind the start line as the gun went off, and then we started running like cows in a stampede. It’s an odd experience running with an audience and in a crowd considering it’s usually a fairly solitary sport.

I came around a corner and a huge crowd of friends were standing on the sidelines egging me on, it was the most amazing feeling. I never thought hearing my own name could give me so much energy. By the last 5 kilometers I was struggling, I felt like someone had filled me legs with cement and my lungs with acid. My knee was torturing me and I felt nauseous, I thought about stopping but I figured if I stopped I’d have to walk to the finish anyway and even at the snails pace I was going I decided that would be faster than walking. By the last 2 kilometers I was officially in hell, the only thought running through my mind  was “holy shit! This is only a HALF marathon why would ANYONE in their right mind want to do a WHOLE one?” luckily for me I had a cheer squad on bikes cheering me along the final stretch. I was overcome with emotion and came crying over the finish line. I fell into the arms of a strong and friendly volunteer who said, with all the soberness you would expect from a Dutchman  “Well done miss, your not the first but your not the last, I guess that puts you somewhere in the middle.” Within 2 minutes of stopping my legs went from concrete to jelly and my arms felt like 2 pieces of over cooked spaghetti. But, I’d done it, 21 km. I couldn’t walk but I felt on top of the world, and despite the pain I’m ready for next year.

About karafraser

Fame and celebrity used to be something reserved for a select few, but then the internet, reality tv, web cams, you tube, Facebook, Twitter, smartphones and countless other forms of technology came along enabling Jo Blog and Mary Ordinary to cash on on their 15 MB of fame. Thanks to my extreme form of tech-lexia (the inability to understand and or navigate computers or basically anything with a screen, buttons and power chord) this is my first attempt at creating my own personal blogbuster. I swapped Vegemite for Hagelslag, Bega for Goudse belegen and went in search for the boy who stuck his finger in the Dyke... This is me, going Dutch.
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