Everything went wrong since the beginning. Like in the worst horror nightmare.
My right ankle was hurting like heck, despite that I had taken my meds, and I was in pain even before the run started.
I didn't know how to attach the running chip to my shoelaces, so I damaged one of the cable ties. My chip was not well fixed, and it just came off while I was running. It happened during the first kilometre. My shoelaces got untied, too, but I wanted to keep running because I knew that if I stopped, it'd be harder to start running again. But everybody who passed me kept saying to me, "Your shoelaces are untied", so I had to stop and tie them. As a result, when I carried on running, my ankle was hurting even more, and I began limping.
By the time I reached the 1K sign, I was incredibly exhausted.
At 2K, I just couldn't go on running anymore. But I'd never ever give up!
3K - I couldn't believe my eyes when I had a look at my watch. I'd never ever been so slow! Shame on me, I was the tortoise in the children's tale!
At 4K I wasn't only limping but jumping mainly on my left leg, cursing it, blaspheming. I shouted every now and then, just to encourage myself. I couldn't stand the pain! I felt I couldn't take it anymore - I could have thrown myself on the ground, right there, and died right then. And, of course, gone to hell.
5K - Finally!, I reached the finish line and I was suffering as if I'd been shot. Tears rolling down my cheeks. I grabbed a bottle of water and an apple. I was eating my apple and crying at the same time. Some people were looking at me. I prayed that nobody would dare to say anything to me. I just wanted everybody to leave me alone.
My personal trainer texted me 20 minutes before our date saying that he was sorry but he couldn't come. He was having marital issues, and decided not to show up to coach me - after taking part of the money he was going to get for this service (which, BTW, never gave me a refund for).
There was nobody else there to assist me. Or to comfort me.
There was nobody else there to assist me. Or to comfort me.
My son had got lost and I had to search him everywhere. It took me forever to find him! Besides, he missed my arrival, so I've got no pics of me crossing the finish line.
Nobody to offer support and help me handle the terrible feeling of defeat.
I just couldn't share this, because nobody was there for me. Double grief. I felt incredibly lonely - abandoned. Hopeless. Wretched.
I just couldn't share this, because nobody was there for me. Double grief. I felt incredibly lonely - abandoned. Hopeless. Wretched.
The pain was unbearable. Nobody would rescue me and help me get home, either.
There I was, injured, sad and depressed, and all by myself. A terrible moment. It's taken me a whole month to be able to talk about it. (And I know I'm speaking to nobody else but me.)
The burden of a broken dream is even heavier than the terrible pain caused by a sprained ankle after running a 5K. I know, I can tell.
No chip, no record. So I don't know what my position in the run was. Nevertheless, I didn't need to know. I was around the 500th woman in my category to cross the finish line. But there are no official records stating that I was there. And --- it took me over 40 minutes to complete the run.
Yes --- a real nightmare.
I was feeling so much pain that I skipped the stretching. Bad move. My muscles kept hurting for many days.
So that's it. Nothing else to add. I'm still trying to get over it. It'll take a long time, though. My resilience has been compromised greatly by all these events, as well as by all the people involved in them.
Life can sometimes beat you up badly, can't it?
PS: Anyway, there's something good about Mc Donald's 5K 2011, and it's the following: I'm no quitter, I can be strong, and I will let NOBODY tell me I'm a pathetic, ugly fat woman, and get away with it. PERIOD.
