My First Run Dem Experience
I am not much of a runner myself, so upon hearing I will be training for the next 2 months of my life to run a distance I could have only previously imagined, I could only think it was a joke. I arrived at the daunting 1948 venue, surrounded by people lining up in expectation to endure a task I could only beforehand think was a punishment and my mind was swarming with doubt, fear and uncertainty. The clock kept ticking as we were made to listen to the intimidating stories of people’s outstanding accomplishments and it almost seemed as if we weren’t going to run as it began to get late, but that would’ve been too good to be true. With legs weak with pure exhaustion there was no turning back as our team leaders aluminous Nike shoes vanished off into the distance. With my brain screaming at me to stop due to the excruciating pain in my right calf I had my pride and dignity on the line, I couldn’t finish behind the girls. Every stride felt like 10, every time we made a stop I was praying to hear we’d reached our destination. After what seemed like forever I was overjoyed to hear the words “this is the final stretch” as I overcame all the pain and agony I’d been through in the last 3 miles and sprinted with all my being, and exerted all my remaining energy into finally finishing this devilish course and getting to see that formidable 1948 sign once again. Bring on next week.
My first run was one word: EXHAUSTING! Half way through, I was thinking to myself “why did I let miss drag me into this??” (Asides from the fact that I could put this on my UCAS…) However, nearing the end, I couldn’t help but feel extremely smug with myself. Me, panting like an 80 year old man amongst hundreds of Londoners, going about their daily business, made me feel amazing! Especially at the bridge where I could see how vibrant London was at night with all the bright lights. Now I kind of understood what Charlie meant by running at night with your peers and how exhilarating it was. There was me sprinting and screaming “wooo!” Like a headless chicken with my arms flaring out when we was on the bridge. Then I looked back and everyone was looking at me like “what the f…” especially my friends.
Admittedly, I shouldn’t have felt so proud as many times throughout the run I slowed down to the speed of a slug and wanted so desperately to sneak off in the underground and seek salvation on the stinking tube train, but having the rest of my friends alongside me, feeling like they were going to drop dead too made the run so much better.