That last set almost grabbed my soul out of me. I tried but i really couldn't finish that last set within the targeted time. My lungs just refused to take in as much oxygen as before. However, positively, I know i had tried my best. That last 150 metres or so, i really gave almost everything i had. I understand that not being able to finish the sets given was not something i should be happy about. In fact i was very sad after that. I know i have disappointed a lot of people. I have to strive a lot harder to be able to give the other guys some hope of getting something. However, while reflecting on the bus, I realised it was not something bad actually. I had never push myself enough to give all out, or at least this close for a very long time alr, nor have i even ever come so close before. Alas, at least now i know where my max is and i can improve to overtake this point. After doing core, i drank 2 bottles of sportade(600 ml each), one large milo and about 500ml of plain water. Yes i was that thirsty! It is hard and challenging to run, to push, to lose, etc. Yet the process is more valuable than anything. Last but not least, thank you to all who cheered me on during this training session. You all didn't have to, but you all did. Thanks!
I tried to search for this really great poem regarding runner's high which i chanced upon a few days ago accidentally but to no avail. However i managed to come across a poem by Catherine Elaine which is equally good and meaningful, albeit a little long tho.
Runner
Crazy, they call you.
You who piss yourself on the trail,
barrel out into the sleeting rain,
and push until you can no longer stand.
All of this in the name of
achieving the impossible—
of beating your
self.
You buy tee-shirts that
proudly proclaim:
‘Our sport is your sport’s punishment.’
You revel in its solitary nature
and in the insanity.
You who butter blistered toes
with vaseline.
You who expel your spit in front of
screaming parents
(the sole fans) .
You who choke back bile,
and hurl into the chute,
preparing only to do it again
and again.
Crazy.
Perhaps.
Perhaps a definite
'yes.'
But it is you who know
the steady beat
of your feet underneath.
It is you who see the streaks of grace
in the misty morning sky,
faint colors leading you like flags.
It is you who feel the sharp sensation of air
slicing through lungs.
It is you who realize:
This is for one thing
and one thing only—
the flight
itself.
Catherine Elaine
~yoz~bert~yoz~
5:37 AM
