It’s the Great Wall of Terri

In running sometimes the greatest opponent you face is yourself. Your brain telling you that you will be hurt if you run 20 feet further. That its ok to take a bit of a break. That it won’t hurt to run 4 km instead of the planned 26.2 km.

I think it was watching Run Fatboy Run that started this whole thing.

I decided to watch the movie for several reasons.  One being that running movies are few and far between.  The other reason is that I am going to England on holiday and wanted to watch the movie so I could see the sights.  And possibly to scout out places to go run while I’m there.  That in itself is a whole other blog.

My favourite scene is the one in which  “Fatboy” is running the marathon.  And he hits the wall.  Both the Gazelle and I howled with laughter.  I don’t know about you, but I have seen that wall.  And I have hit that wall.

It happened to me when I ran the first Road2Hope.  I signed up and trained to do the 10 km race.  I trained for it all summer long.  When Esther said we  could actually train on the Red Hill Expressway, we did.  Several times.

I made it to the bottom of the hill to the turn around point.  I started back toward the hill.  I knew that I had to run back UP that hill.  And that’s where the wall dropped.  Gently, floating on the breeze like a feather.

I stopped.  No matter which way I looked, the wall stretched for miles either way.  I looked up and it stretched miles into the sky.  I knew that the wall was very thick.

And just like Fatboy, reached into a part of me I didn’t even know existed and I smashed that wall to bits. I still hit that same wall on occasion, but it isn’t as bad as I think.

I had battled me and won.