Day 988: DNF

Day 988, 5 August, was supposed to be a very happy day when I can boast about achieving a prize from a race. Not everything goes as you wish. Sometimes you need to face failure. Someone has said that you learn more from failure than success. True. I do hope that this failure ultimately brings me closer to success, I don’t want to be stuck in failure forever. Oddly enough, I am not super disappointed. When I had made the decision that I did not want to go on any longer, it was almost like a relief. I really did not want to continue. Happens. Better luck next time. Better luck already on 8 August when I will try run 2000 metres on the track. Let’s hope that the cloud of failure has passed by then.

Progress Report

1. Own and live in a house.

I don’t think I did anything for this goal, except for reading a book about various ways of getting rich, which would give the necessary funds to build a damn house.

2. Write AND publish a book.

Toyed with a book idea that a friend suggested: my own adventures in a kind of an Eat, Pray, Love format. Might be doable. I can see this happening. Made some notes into my special notebook, constructed some sentences in my head.

3. Win a major race.

My husband won the shorter distance, the 5K, effortlessly. I was confident that I would do great on the longer distance as well. 11.3 km, not much, right? I am a marathon runner after all. Although… all the longer distances have been kind of failures this year. Ok, new PB from Valencia Half-Marathon (1:34:30), but a total disaster in Rapla’s 10K (48 minutes because the medicine I was taking took all my strength) and a dissatisfactory championship half-marathon in Narva (1:36 something, I don’t even want to remember…). This year, I have performed better, surprise-surprise, on the track. 3000m was the very first track race for me and I really started to like counting the laps.

I lost my second place and 100 euros of prize money that could be spent in a local Coop store on food just after 2 kilometres. Suddenly, my legs were empty, I have no idea how I kept going. The familiar pain in my right side was kicking in. I was tired. I didn’t want to do it anymore. I ran just to the 5K marker where my husband waited with his bicycle and stepped aside. Would have done it even sooner, but I wanted to be sure he knew that I quit. Sent him to the finish line to get my bag and jogged 2 km back to the train station, half dead. I wasn’t even too much disappointed, just empty. Maybe it was that super long day in the countryside with too many people around. Every introvert’s nightmare, even if those people are your (my husband’s, to be precise) family and you generally like them. My battery was drained. At home, I slept for an hour and even got a shoulder rub from my dearest, but that didn’t stop an awful headache… ugh.

Photo of the Day

Let it be him this time. At least he made it to the finish line. Not too happy about the time nor the running technique, but he was first after all.

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