Just 100 minutes

The first morning of my romantic weekend away, I slipped out of bed, and headed for a special place in the Knysna forest. Today was a day to be tested. To see, if I was good enough.

 A year ago to this day, I had been standing on the same spot, wondering the same things. Then I could feel very little as the effects of strong drugs still leisurely cruised my bloodstream. Drugs that had tried hard to fight a tooth abscess and failed dismally. The run was my worst ever, most of it spent locked in a mental battle to put one foot in front of the other.

Four years ago, on my departure from executive mayhem, I set myself 10 life goals to achieve over the next five years. One of those goals was to run a half marathon (21 kilometres) in under 100 minutes. This was my year to set the record straight.

The race started well but I could feel myself tiring with six kilometres to go. Three kilometres later and the tank was empty, time was slipping away. I shared a word of encouragement with a walker, not sure if it was for me or for him. I really wanted to join him. Instead he started to run again, pacing me, both of us with nothing left to give, stride for stride, until at last the finish was behind us. With 19 seconds to spare!

It felt good to achieve a goal which has eluded me for years. It also felt good to have helped somebody else achieve the same goal, although I hope he felt the same way about me, because I could not have done it without him. I often share my strong mind overcomes everything philosophy with my children. This goal required me to live it and it was much tougher than expected. When all was done, I could not believe how close I had come to giving up. Sometimes success requires a short wallow in pain, and pushing through to the other side.

I am glad it was tough. If it had been easy, the goal would simply not have been tough enough. And what is the point of only doing things that are easy?