I’ve had a truly inspiring weekend, one that will stay with me for a while. My friend Nicky completed his first marathon this weekend and JZ and I went to support him. It was cold and grey and wet and lonely, but he did it. I don’t know what he felt when he crossed that finish line, but I know what I felt – and I wouldn’t swap it for the world!
For the past few months, I have ran with Nicky (he’s most definitely the reason I go out running when I don’t feel like it) and I have watched him push himself beyond his limits. I have watched him struggle with bad knee pain and worry over this marathon. I have felt the silence that comes with being nervous about something big. I have watched all this but I didn’t understand it. In so many ways, I still don’t. I don’t understand what it’s like to train that hard and push yourself that hard (I only ran with him for small bits of his route); and I don’t understand the feeling that comes with having achieved that. But I do understand the achievement; it’s enormous!
I felt proud when Nicky crossed that finish line. I felt overwhelmed with joy and happiness that all his hard work until that moment and the early start and the cold and the rain and the bloody miserable day, all of it was worth it for that one moment when he crossed that finish line and he knew he’d done it.