After months of worrying, whining, hyperventilating, not training and almost debilitating self-doubt, I ran a half marathon last Sunday.

I’d like to think that it’s my most physically enduring undertaking ever but it wasn’t. That’s not to say it wasn’t hard, at one point I thought I was going to pass out.

It was pissing rain throughout the run, I’m talking a mini thunderstorm here… just my luck eh?

The feeling of being a part of over 3000 runners was exhilarating!

What impressed me most was how well behaved and orderly we were; unlike those 5K & 10K runs where people literally trample you to get to the start line, here we walked in an organized manner towards the start line till there was enough room to run.

So how did I do?

I did it in two hours and six seconds (my chip time, my gun time was 2:07) and came in 2087^th, meaning I beat 1263 people. I could have done better but I’m so damn proud of myself, I could hardly care.

I’m oddly reminded of something my father told me a long time ago on a hot sunny African morning.

He said me he feared mediocrity for me. He said I had a natural ability to be good at everything I tried “You have to understand that it’s never enough. Do it best; can you imagine the greatness you’d accomplish by working hard and applying yourself? You’d excel beyond your wildest imagination”,

I haven’t thought about that in years…because… well, it’s advice from my father, the same guy who didn’t come home one night because he “got lost and spent all night driving around the M25”

But that’s a story for another day.

I met someone (winner of last year’s race) who’ll help me train, I want to do a ten mile in October and walk the Seattle Marathon a month later then maybe run a marathon next year.

The London Marathon if I can get in.

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I feel unbalanced. I’ve been out of sorts lately.

I’ve been getting these surges of anticipation even though I have no great prospects. It’s making me edgy.

Summer has come a little early this year and it’s full of promise.

I’m running a half marathon later this month; my first ever…!

I haven’t been training; in fact I’ve outright stopped running because I can’t go as far anymore.

The worse that could happen is that I don’t get a “finisher” t-shirt because I drop out halfway through the race.

I’m a little sad because this isn’t how I pictured my first half marathon – I figured I’d be well trained, healthy and enthused.

Instead I can’t seem to shake this defeatist mindset.

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Every so often, I like to audit my life. The first couple of times I tried this, I was so disappointed a wave of subtle depression overcame me. The next couple of times I just blamed my father. I also found out that although (almost) every choice was made with good intentions, things just don’t work out the way they’re supposed to.

Years ago I decided to start running for exercise; it was hard, messy and sweaty but yielded fantastic results. I don’t consider myself a great runner, I don’t particularly enjoy it – it’s tolerable and doable. Yet running somehow became a big part of my life, a part of who I am.

Everyone who really knows me knows that I run – I run five times a week.

For the last year or so my running has been sporadic at best.

One of my biggest challenges in life is commitment… to anything. It was easy to let running go save for brief twinges of guilt.

I realise that I need to go back to running, I’ve gained 15lbs, a couple of my pants no longer fit, the ones I force myself into are so tight it’s as if I’m trying to prove something. I’ve stopped referring to myself as a runner but the word is already out there; conversations about running and exercise makes me uncomfortable since I’m doing neither.

Yesterday I was on instant messenger with a friend, we haven’t talked in months, he tells me he has a surprise for me, sends me a picture… and… he’s lost 30lbs – he’s started running because I inspired him!

They say the first step is admitting your problem. I’m sure it’s still somehow my father’s fault.

Here are pictures from last Saturday’s run, the start of a new cycle:

This was a great weekend for a run; it was sunny, breezy and cool.

I didn’t go very far because I couldn’t go until early afternoon. Here are some of the pictures I took:

I think my age is catching up with me – I can’t seem to function on just four hours of sleep anymore.

I couldn’t bring myself to go running on Saturday morning (again!); I was tired and disoriented from lack of sleep.

After a good sleep, I woke up Sunday morning feeling much better.

It was an energizing, fresh bright sunny day, befitting a New Year.

And here we go…