Even though people say I am a pretty good talker, when it comes to emotions, I am definitively a better writer. So here it goes:
Yesterday I was fisically much more and better prepared than for all the other marathons (and even that ultra) I ran before. Even so, I couldn’t do it.
I ran amazingly until km 20 and really thinking about being able to finish it within 3h30.
After that, however, my head just didn’t seem to approve what I was trying to achieve. It didn’t metter how enthousiastically people screamed “you can do it!”, my head automatically turned them all in “you can NOT do it”. But I kept running. I wanted to reach the next refreshment point. There, around km 21, I walked for the first time.
I don’t know why. I was feeling strong and still running great. Even though my head was trying to stop me, my pace was basically still the same.One minute later I started running. Still feeling fisically great but again in the company of those stupid voices in my head telling me to JUST stop.
On km 25 I saw myself walking. One more time, without knowing why. It’s a very frustrating feeling. My body wanted so hard to keep going and have some fun, and my mind just didn’t let me do it. I never felt like this before. At least not so hard that I couldn’t keep it under control.
I knew Bea Weijers and Peer would be on km 29, so I made an agreement with my mind and I decided to run untill them. One part of me though: “and if you don’t find them on the crowd, great: You’re allowed to keep running!” and the other part was desperatelly saying: “no fucking way!!! If there is any chance we won’t find them you should stop right now, you crazy bitch!”.
But I kept going. I wanted to run but sometimes I “woke up” and found myself walking. I really don’t know why. I didn’t have any fisical complain. Yeah, ok: legs were a bit heavier but nothing I never experienced before. On the 29th I saw them, but I didn’t stop. I owned them my best. When I looked at them, all cheering me up, I remembered everything they did to me this last months, and I didn’t have the courage to stop in front of them.
I was ready to stop my watch. For 2 more kms I fought. I fought and discussed with my mind. I was pretty sure if I kept going, even slower, I could manage finishing before 4 hours, but that voices in my head kept screaming: “stop NOW, you mother fucker”.
I was angry, disapointed and really, REALLY sad. I pressed the stop botton and went to the sidewalk. I set down in the grass and cried. God damn, I was pissed off.
Still feeling fisically good, I walked back to the place where we dropped out our stuff (which somehow in a straight line was approximately 3km from where I was) and set down to wait for Bas Huizinga . After a while I also called Bea and told her I was there - and that I didn’t finish. She told me they saw Bas crossing the line already and that they were comming to me.
When I saw them I cried again. I somehow felt I owned them crossing the finish line. Not because they asked for it - which they never did - , but because I wanted to give my best to them. And to me, of course.
I am not sure when or if I will ever manage to try it again. Now it’s definitively the time to just give it some time.Oh man...I feel so bad. Mad. Sad.