The Dreaded Double Marathon

So yesterday I ran the Kent Roadrunner marathon. After I got home I had a bath to ease the muscles a bit then did some pretty painful work on the foam roller. If you don't know what that is, it is, as you may have guessed a cylindrical tube of foam. You roll your muscles over it to ease out knots and pains. It's incredibly effective. It's also incredibly painful. I followed it up with some less painful yoga. I then relaxed for the evening.

Today I get up and I am aware that it is a necessary part of my training that I now run another marathon. I'm still in a lot of pain. My left medial quadricep is in a lot of pain I guess due to the nature of road running being something that I didn't train for at all therefore causing some muscles to be impacted differently than they have become accustomed to with my normal long distance slow training. The speed I was going at yesterday also meant that I was slipping around in my shoes a lot more so I've got some pretty nasty blisters. Today is going to be fun.

I take the time to have my breakfast and slowly move through the same foam roller and yoga routine. I like training days like this on the weekend as it doesn't feel like there is a time pressure and it feels like I can focus a bit more on doing the recovery work more effectively. Because God knows today I'm going to need it. Before I know it it's time to go.

I leave the house, lock up, press play on my tracker and music and take the tentative first few steps. Unfortunately I live on a hill so the first three or four hundred metres are a relatively steep downhill section. As I move down these I notice two things. Firstly, my quads are screaming at me. What the hell are you doing? They posit the notion into my mind that this is a rather insane thing I am attempting to do. In my sadomasochistic chagrin I inwardly enjoy this feeling that I am pushing the boundaries.

The second thing I notice is that my pace is starkly different to the one I started off with yesterday. Yesterday my first kilometre was run in four minutes twenty two seconds. Today feels about half that. But I'm okay with that. Today I am going to take my time and just enjoy a casual run. Well, that's the plan anyway. We'll see what actually happens.

I go the normal route through and across the main road and am then hit by the familiar Leesons Hill. It's approximately a hundred metre climb over a couple of kilometres. So not too hard but feels a bit daunting today on pretty munted legs.

I approach it with muted trepidation. The incline goes up. I hit it. It doesn't hit back...yet. I feel okay. Is this a false sense of security? I'm unsure but it feels good so hey, I'll take it. I get to the top and I'm still okay. It's surprising. I'll still take it.

On up to the edge of Scadbury reserve and I'm back into the wilderness. I breath a sigh of relief. I've missed this. I look around. There are leaves of varying shades of green and trunks of various barks. Shadows elusively bounce around the floor and I chase them. I am relaxed. I am back in safety. I don't want to go back to the road again. I want to stay here plodding through the forest.

Scabury reserve.

It's a familiar path as it is my local route. I normally come up here and do five kilometre laps but today I skirt the sides. Today I am going exploring.

When deciding to take this challenge I figured it was best not to train normally today. For one, I mentally don't think I could handle laps again after the seventeen yesterday. For two, I mentally don't think I could complete a full marathon here today knowing that I could stop short and go home a few laps early. Today, it's as much a mental game as it is physical.

So I come out the other side of the reserve and I'm still on the route I use when I run or cycle to work coming up to Chislehurst. I've done a bit of looking and from what I can tell the Green Chain walk, which is part of the eighty mile Capital Ring encircling the beast known as London, has an offshoot that happens to come down to here somewhere.

As I approach the main road through, though, I realise that by taking this route I will have to go through and over all the hills I normally do on my way to work. Going this way it's fine as they're big but undulate downward. Coming home later they are going to be agony. Not to mention they are on road. Which is exactly what I wanted to avoid today. I panic a little. Should I turn around and just do laps? Should I stick to my comfort zone and just stay in this area?

No. 

I carry on and tell myself to deal with it. You are doing an out and back route and that is final. I tell myself this. More out of stubbornness to stick to the plan than anything else. I just hope I can keep it up.

After all that less than two minutes later across Chislehurst common I see the first sign of the Green Chain Walk. I get a little kick from this. I'm pleased I kept going. I get down to the bottom of this part of the hill and I'm taken across the road and down a garden path. I'm taken away from familiarity and I like it. It feels good.

At the end of this narrow path between two properties I explode out onto a lovely little park area that's just had a big burst of sun.  I'm spurred on even more and enjoy going around the side of this and into the wood over the back of it. My legs are starting to warm up again and don't feel quite as rusty. I feel better overall and I feel like I will be able to do this. It feels...good.

I sweep under the cover of the woods and the signage says straight. It's a pretty narrow and disused looking path but I go down it anyway as that's the way the sign said to go. It very quickly becomes even more disused looking before coming out onto a wide path. I think I'm lost. Already? That was pretty quick. I make a snap decision to head right down this path as I'm pretty sure the one I'm supposed to be on roughly follows the road and that's off to the right. I come out on an intersection of various paths then off in the distance round the corner see a sign. So I was lost. Oh well. It was only a slight diversion so it's fine.  I just might need to watch where I'm going a little more. It's not like I'm in a race for a change, though, so who cares if I get lost?

The path opens out onto another nice and sunny field. It's really warming to see after so many months of training in cold horrible snow. For once I don't have a base layer on and it doesn't feel like that's going to be a problem at all today. My sunburn, however, I'm not quite so sure. I guess I'll have to see about that later.

Through some more paths then into some proper woods. Marvel Woods this is called. How apt. It's the sort of woods where the trees are sparse but the canopy covers entirely and creates a shady roof. Leaves litter the floor and it's nice to be in the shade again.

There's a fairly long downhill ahead. I can see it. And now I can feel it. It feels okay now but I'm struck by the fact that there have been a few downhills so far and they are going to be fairly tricky to be coming up at the end of the day. Tough cookies, I guess. What will be will be.

I come toward the bottom edge of the woods and see a car park. It looks like it might be opening onto something interesting. I get closer. And closer. I realise that it is not, in fact, a car park but a graveyard with a fence between it and me.

I'm reminded of my old route through south London that used to take in a few graveyards and I'm reminded by how peaceful they are. At the time I was living in a horrible area with riots, a hospital and police station not far away and a fire station over the road. It was never-ending shouting and sirens so when I would go running, the graveyards I'd go through we're such a stark contrast as the few people who are there are generally respectful. Perhaps I'm morbid or perhaps I just enjoyed the paradox of a place that is meant to be sad bringing happiness and a sense of life. I guess it depends on how you want to look at it...

As I was looking at the graveyard I hadn't noticed the big sign for the walk. It seems I've now hit the main circular section of the Capital Ring as there are signs going off both ways from here. Last year I did a race that took in a fifty kilometre section of this route. So my choice is whether to turn left and have a slightly better idea of where I am and know the route a bit. Or to turn right and go into the unknown.

I go right. I'm exploring, right?

What goes up must come down and vice versa. Therefore I'm now faced by an uphill that looks like it isn't going to end for a while. I'm okay with that. It's all part of it. Although I probably won't be thinking that in a couple of hours when it gets tough I imagine. 

The woods continue for a while and it's quite nice being shaded from the sun. This weekend is the first that the sun has properly come out and unfortunately I got burned at the race yesterday. So today the sun is great. Today, I just want to bask in it to rejuvenate my vitamin D starved body... but I have to try to stay in the shade. Typical. 

The woods go on for a bit longer and the ground levels out a little bit more and becomes more undulating. There are pine needles and such like flying around everywhere and I'm reminded that I probably should have brought my gaiters as I have to stop to clear the crud out of my shoes. It's a nice little chance to sit down for a minute so I shouldn't complain.

I get going again and off to my right is a makeshift BMX track with the local kids screaming at each other. After this I burst out onto a massive sport field. There is a game of soccer going on over the other side and I notice that the sign is pointing directly through the middle of the fields between the two sets of goalposts. They seem to have really thought this route out quite well, avoiding any problems with traffic, soccer or anything else for that matter. It's useful as the last thing I really feel like doing is navigating on a day like today. The running is enough of a struggle.

Across the field and around the back of an incredibly posh looking school leads me back to my route home during the week. I wonder whether or not I should maybe come this more scenic way on other days when I'm coming home then remember the fact that I currently get home at nine without adding detours onto the route. As pretty as it may be, I also want to have some sleep and dinner at ten thirty is late enough as it is.

Off the known track nearly as quick as I was on it and down an overgrown alleyway. It's a bit scuzzy as all the alleys so far have been then I come up to Sidcup Road which is more of a main line and cars are going quite fast. Just as I'm starting to gear myself up for a road crossing the alley opens out on my left to a very thin field between the private land and the road that has bright yellow flowers stretching as far as I can see. It's so unexpected and is always so nice to see something like this. Between a dirty alleyway and a motorway there is this really lovely field. I smile. It reminds me that there is always good to be found amongst the crap. It reminds me not to judge a book by it's cover and know that even when things are looking bad, something nice could be just round the corner. 

Find the beauty in the dissonance.

Then I tell myself to stop daydreaming and get running again. At this point I text Jess to tell her that she can give me a call on her lunch break if she likes. I know that later it will really pick me up mentally so I hope she will but imagine she won't have time. 

Over the road with no incident thankfully. Less than a minute later there is a rail bridge with some quite steep steps to get up and over. Deep breath and I run up them and down the other side just knowing that if I can run these on the way back I'm going to be a happy man indeed. I also know that I won't be. Running the stairs that is. Or a very happy man, for that matter either. Over another pretty tricky road and then a long slow uphill, the sun opens out and off to my left there are some fields with horses in them and a great view of London off in the distance. 

Again I'm reminded of my old route in south London with views similar. I love it as the juxtaposition of tranquil horses grazing in the sun is tempered by the foreboding dissonance of the hulk that is central London. I also love the fact that I'm here and not there. As much as I enjoyed it when I was working and living over there; I did my time. Several years of that fast pace and I'm quite happy out here closer to nature and keeping my slower pace.

I check my phone and it's about ten kilometres in the bag so I decide now is a good time to have my first gel. Need to keep the energy up. So I do so and carry on plodding, come up to an intersection and am led up another hill. I notice that the houses here look quite old and are set out like an old village. Then it clicks that I am actually in an old mediaeval village as Eltham Palace is somewhere here and these are the old outhouses. I look around to try to see it but to no luck. It's a shame as I always get a thrill from seeing the old palaces. Being from New Zealand I've not grown up with the rich history that a place like Britain has so I always marvel when I'm faced with something that is hundreds of years old. 

But I've not got time to stop today. I come out onto some green looking streets then eventually back to a main road to which I am directed to go down. It's nice to have a little downhill after such a long time and not have to focus on where I'm going. Round a big roundabout then further down the opposing road the sign says to cross. Again I note how well signposted this walk is. I start daydreaming as I'm heading along but after a while realise I haven't seen a sign in a while. I also notice that I've spent longer than normal on a main road and I start to wonder if I'm lost. 

No. I can't be. Can I? I decide to carry on and if there isn't a sign after a couple of hundred metres then I'll stop. There isn't a sign so I do stop. I get my phone out and can see on the map where I am. But the problem is I haven't mapped out where I'm supposed to be. So I've no idea whether I might even still be going the right way. Bugger. 

I try looking up the walk online. No luck. I can't find very detailed information about it at all. I wonder about asking someone if they know where it is. I remember other times I've tried this. I remember that it doesn't work. I remember that usually when people see a runner coming towards them, who has caught their eye, they are quick to avert their own gaze. They mentally seem to shrink and start hoping you'll just go past. 'Please don't talk to me. Please don't talk to me. Please don't talk to me' the mantra goes over and over in their minds...then you do talk to them. Immediately they look at your crotch. Without fail. 'Why is this man in tights talking to me? It's indecent! I don't know where to look. I don't know whether or not to acknowledge his near-nakedness. This is not a situation I've trained myself for. I must get out of it as quickly as I can!' You ask directions. Before you've even finished the question they are halfway through saying they don't know. You give up. Even the times when they get over the paranoia enough to think the question over they never know. No one ever knows where you can go walking just for leisure. Why would they want to do that?

So after toying with that idea I decide to retrace my steps and hope to find the sign I must have missed. I get all the way back to the crossing then realise I was actually just supposed to cross here then double back on the roundabout. So the path had only come down this road to take me to the road crossing. I now curse how safely signposted this walk is. But...no matter. It wasn't the nicest detour but it's still extra time running I guess. Which is what I need today. I mentally add an extra kilometre onto the distance I need to go before turning back to accommodate this extra curricular activity and make sure I will still complete the marathon.

I'm back on wooded roads. Then a park. There are a number of different paths through this park. I start to worry I'm going to get lost again after I've only just regained my way. At each intersection of paths I just go straight and thankfully at the other side I see a sign telling me I'm going the right way. Onto a bridge over a busy motorway again and I'm now into the edge of what looks to be a proper forest. 

The path widens into what is obviously a well used route for a while and the cover overhead gets thicker. The atmosphere feels a bit more remote and I feel happier. My pace at this point is starting to slow and I'm starting to feel more tired. I check my distance and see that I'm at about seventeen kilometres. I realise that I'm actually starting to flag and fade. My pace is barely trudging along and my legs feel heavy. I suddenly get the feeling that I want to just stop and give up. 

I just want to stop. 

And give up.

I don't. I tell myself to keep going. I will myself to keep going. And it sort of works. I tell myself that I'm not far from halfway where I can treat myself to a gel. A picnic of sorts. Even a sit down, maybe. Maybe. If I'm a good boy. 

I then start to think that I obviously need some energy now if this sort of fatigue is hitting me. If this was a race I would be grabbing straight for the gels. But it's not. And I can't really be bothered. So I don't. Right now I'd rather just keep going. It's not smart but I set myself the goal of only going another three or so kilometres and then I'll let myself have a gel. Then it won't be far until halfway. Is this smart? I don't know but it's what I'm doing all the same. 

I see a man up ahead walking two small dogs. They're off the lead and start running towards me. I'm not a dog person but I'm fairly used to this being a runner. It happens a bit. Normally they'll run alongside a little bit or jump up at me a couple of times then the owner will call them and they go away. 

This time that's not the case however. These two dogs jump at me, yapping away. I slow, as I always do. I give them a chance to let their excitement out and I try to dodge around them. They jump up again at me. The owner says the stock standard response that they won't hurt me. I think my stock standard thought that I don't care about platitudes as they are disturbing me. I don't want my pace dictated by someone else's dogs. I want my pace dictated by my legs, lungs and heart. I want to escape today into my own world in the forest. I don't want to be brought back to reality by some annoying dogs.

So I pick the pace back up. They keep following and chasing and get in front of me again, meaning I have to slow again. I dodge them once more and they do it again. The owner is now yelling from a hundred metres away that they're fine. I shout at him that they should be on a lead. I never shout. I'm generally pretty tolerant of the idiots that I find out on my excursions. But today I'm not really in the mood to be teaching a Jack Russell what interval training is.

So I just run off and decide to ignore them if they keep at me. Thankfully they don't and I'm back on my way. I'm relieved. Then straight after I panic that I'm near my turning point and am going to have to go back past them again. Only if that happens then they'll be even more enthusiastic and the owner is not going to like me after yelling at him. This is a lose-lose situation. I start to really dislike this man. Letting his dogs ruin potentially the most tranquil part of my day. 

There is now up ahead a little bit of low hanging foliage with a big puddle of mud in the middle, tree roots sticking out all over the show and no way around it. Possibly the closest thing to technical trail that I'm going to find today and my favourite kind of running. I put the dogs out of my mind and focus on trying to get through this section without getting my shoes soaked or tripping over. There, there. That's better now isn't it? Stop worrying about those dogs and remember that you're doing something that you really enjoy.

Soon after I pop back out onto a main road. I'm hit in equal parts by the sun catching my burn from yesterday and the fact that I'm back into the hustle and bustle of main roads and people. I turn right and follow this road up half a kilometre or so, checking all the time for signs. I don't want to get lost again. Then comes a right turn along the side of a small park and I think I'm about to head back off the roads. The path cuts across the park which takes me through a fence to the top of a dead end road. 

I pause at the junction. I'm not sure that I should go down the dead end road. I can't tell if I should stay on the inside of the fence skirting this small grassed area. I stand there and I look in front. I look left. Right. Behind. I know that I just need to try to figure out what to do here. Which way to go. I know what the problem is. But I can't figure out how to solve it. I start to get scared. I know this is a really simple task. I just need to think through the options and decide on the most feasible one to keep me following the path I'm trying to. 

But I can't.

My brain has lost the ability to make simple connections in logic. It's not science. It's just deciding where to go. Panic sweeps over me. I should have had that gel a couple of kilometres back. I've starved myself of the necessary glucose to function correctly. 

I just want to stop. 

And give up.

Without knowing what is going on my legs start to move through the gap in the fence and for some reason as soon as I pass through it my senses partially come back to me. I can't use logic anymore for directions for some reason. I accept it. I pull my phone out of my bag to check how far I've come. I'm at about twenty and a half kilometres. I already knew that with the detour I need to go to twenty two kilometres before I turn around. I remember not being sure on the maths but I also know mathematics is not going to be something I'm easily capable of right now so I don't question this figure. I decide to just go forward and see what happens. At worst I'll go for the last stretch on road. Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe it means I'll be a bit quicker. 

Either way, the decision is made and I'm sticking to it. I carry on, looking out for signs and see none. I give up and decide not to care. The sun beats on my face. I still don't care. I'm moving ever so slightly faster due to the flat road and I just want to get to the turning point. I go round a few roads then at an intersection turn left as that takes me to some trees. 

What I didn't realise is that it would also takes me downhill on fairly steep slope. I do a double take. I'm so close to the end! I can't hammer my quads with a sharp descent then take a break staring at a big uphill! I'll never want to start again! I ask myself to remember that this is an option I won't have on my big race in a few weeks and I ask myself to go down the slope. 

It hurts but I get there. At the bottom there is a council estate with a small patch of grass out front. I take a perch. I pause my tracking app. I take a sip of water. I have a gel. I get out a horrible bland protein bar that makes me retch just to look at it. I open the wrapper and I take a bite. It tastes as horrible as I remember the last one being. I want to give up and throw it out but it's not a choice. I need the sustenance. So I spend ten minutes slowly dissolving the thing in my mouth enough that I can swallow it without too much taste. I make a mental note to stop buying these terrible things and just get some muesli bars next time. There's no point having things specifically for sports if you can't eat them whilst doing sports, is there?

I probably look pretty weird right now. I'm sat on the side of a council estate in tights having a picnic and the sun is cooking my crispy little forehead. I realise that I'm sat out in the open. There is another patch of grass about five metres away that has a tree shading it. Why didn't I sit there? It looks like an oasis in a desert right now. I need to go there for this little break. But I can't be bothered. It's like torture. I bet even the bland bar would taste better if I was in the shade.

I swallow the last tasteless bite and bitterly stare at the shaded area. It's a good thing. I now tell myself it's a good thing. Otherwise I'd just stay here and wouldn't want to go back. As it is my head is starting to resemble a ball of bacon in the sun so I get up, press play and take a couple of tentative steps up the hill. It hurts but that's all part of it I guess. At least my brain feels like it might want to work again. That's definitely going to be a help.

I make my way slowly back to the dead end, through the park, up the main road, slap some sunscreen on that I'm really glad I brought and should probably be using more often than once then I'm back into the sanctity of the forest. I notice that I can relax a bit as I've got some fuel in, I have three gels left so won't get to that delirious point again and I've taken so bloody long I won't have to worry about those confounded dogs again. I get back to the muddy bit and enjoy it that bit more.

I approach an intersection of paths in the forest and from a group of people a lone woman emerges to say something to me. I stop my music, ask her what she said and she's after directions. Oh, how the tables have turned. She wants to know how to get to the cafe. Her friend jumps in to say of course I won't know where it is as I'm running. I confirm her friend is correct. I say I have no idea as I'm from Bromley, wonder if I've actually crossed into another county or not, that it's quite a while back the way I've come from before there is anything and that I didn't see a cafe. 

I run off and wonder if maybe I did see one but in my frazzled state didn't register it. It's possible. But there's not much I can do about it now. 

Back through the woods and my mood is still picking up as I realise that after not being 100% definite I could do this today I realise that I have got past half way. That means the only way to get home is by completing the marathon. That makes me happy. I'm going to achieve something pretty massive today. Monumental for me. Not for everyone. But for me. And right now that's all that matters. Two marathons in two days. The dreaded double. The daunting double. The doable double. The soon-to-be-done double.

I come out of the forest and back onto the big unmarked park, narrowly avoid a small child stopping directly in front of me, her head the height of my knee. Lucky dodge, that, and back onto the path. I tell myself to watch where I'm going and stop thinking about how great I'm supposedly doing. It would be a pyrrhic victory if I took out a small child in my achievement. Would sort of spoil the fun. For both of us.

It's not long before I'm back at the point I got lost. I think about how stupid I am seeing the sign the second time around and how glaringly obvious it is. Back through the wooded street and up the path to the gate of the castle. Coming from this direction I can see it there and it does look lovely. I think that I should maybe one day come here with Jess. Then I think that she will be suspicious I'll make her run and will just point blank refuse. Then I think it will be funny to try anyway to see if she will run here. I round the bend, the palace is out of sight, I decide she would definitely not run here, then I'm back onto the long straight through the field with the view. 

As it's a slight incline and I've actually been pacing fairly well I decide to start interspersing my running with some walking. There is no shame in doing this for an Ultra runner. It's just part of what you have to do. And I'm new to the game so I need to learn to tell myself to do it more often anyway. It's good training to take a walk break. That's what I'm telling myself anyway. I stop for a photo. It unfortunately doesn't come out so well but hey, what can I realistically expect at this point?

This is why you shouldn't run two marathons.

It's back to downhill on the other side of the fields so I can't use the uphill excuse anymore. I creak into a slow jog and decide that I am just going to see how I feel on on hills and how I feel at each point in general. I'll take a walk as and when. And I won't feel bad about it. I realise that it is nearly time for Jess to be on lunch and I start to get excited that she might call. I've never texted her to say she can call so maybe she will. It would make me feel lots better. But I only said she could. I didn't want to make her feel like she had to. She'll be busy and won't want to. I put it back out of my head.

Three minutes later I'm back at the sports field and I decide I'll run up to the edge of it then walk the whole thing. I've only being taking little thirty second walks so far and have been feeling like stopping straight after getting going again and figure that I should just take a decent walk here. So I do. I check my Endomondo tracking and I'm thirty two kilometres in. As I'm walking anyway I may as well have a gel now, shouldn't I? I was planning one around here anyway, then another at thirty five and the final one at thirty nine. 

At the other side of the field I stay true to my word to start running again but it starts to climb pretty quickly after. As I've just had a decent walk break I actually feel okay to keep going. For a bit. I realise pretty quickly that I'm coming up to that long but slow uphill I was worried about earlier as I thud down to the turning at the graveyard. As soon as I reach the sign I start back into a walk up the hill. I'm not even going to try. 

And so it goes. For a while, anyway, I carry on with the walk and run routine. I then go for a stretch that I think will be a kilometre to Chislehurst and tell myself that if I can get there without stopping then I can walk that whole hill. Through another familiar park I came through earlier and I know I'm near. I check my phone to see where I'm at and see if I can have another gel. I can. I've also got a text from Jess to say she has been out in the sun for lunch and won't be calling. I don't know why but it knocks me. I guess I had been really hopeful and expecting it to be a big morale boost even though I knew she wasn't aware of any of that and would probably not want to disturb me. I tell myself to just ask next time. It makes a lot more sense.

I come out onto the main road through Chislehurst and realise there is no cover from the sun so tell myself I'll have to slog it out up the hill to Scadbury reserve. The closer I get the more I feel my head burn. This isn't good. Why am I doing this to my poor little bald noggin? 

Into the reserve, under the trees and I'm safe again. I slow to my long earned walk and boost myself again with the fact that I'm nearly home and running through a part of this reserve that I really enjoy.

Walk.

Run.

Walk.

Run.

Walk. Run. Walk. Walk.

I come out the other side and I'm back at Leesons Hill. It feels much nicer at this end coming down it and surprisingly my knees feel okay so I don't have to hold back too much. I don't know if I should be worried about the inevitable backlash later but I guess I'll need to worry about that then. 

I come up the final hill towards home and click to the fact that I am going to be half a kilometre short of a marathon. You've got to be kidding me. After everything I've done today I'm now going to be faced with the decision whether to go in the door or carry on past the house for two hundred and fifty metres then come back. I approach the final block that is also the steepest up the hill and I tell myself that if I do my normal sprint finish up this block then I can call it a day. 

I just want to stop. 

And give up.

I up the pace instead.

I up it some more. 

For thirty seconds I am sprinting at the damned hill.

Strangely I feel good about this.

I round the corner. It is a very short downhill twenty metres that I always use to catch my breath and I am outside the front door. It's with a massive struggle that I force myself to carry on. But I do it. I head further up the road. I'm watching the distance calculator, though. 

Forty one point eight kilometres. 

Point nine. 

Point nine five. 

I breath again and turn around. I coast home.

I feel like a fucking champion.

I open the door and I collapse. I weep a little bit. I lie on the floor and send a message to my brothers, dad and Jess telling them what I've managed and that I couldn't have done it without the support and belief they've all given me. I'm saddened at not being able to share this crippled moment lying on the floor with any one of them. I feel embarrassed even though no one is around. I tell myself it's all okay. That I've just done something that six months ago I could never hoped to have achieved. 

Eventually I get up, sort myself out something to eat, a recovery shake, a bath and slowly the world goes back to normal.