…is probably what I’ll be saying in approximately 3 and a half months time. I’ve signed up for the Sydney half marathon on 18th September.
I know. WTF?
That’s 21 kilometres (13 miles).
I am currently running 8-10km comfortably, and could probably push it to 12km if I were being pursued by a monster. 14km if it was a Dalek. But 21?
In August, two weeks after I return from seeing my Viking Sousaphonist in the UK, I’ll be doing 14km of the world’s most ridiculously hilly terrain in the annual City to Surf. If that doesn’t kill me, I’ll crack on with the 21km half marathon four weeks later.
The course looks amazing – across Harbour bridge, past the Opera House, around the Botanical gardens, through the City to Hyde Park, then down to the Rocks, up Observatory Hill, over to Darling Harbour, along to the Chinese gardens and then back to finish in front of the Opera House.
I really am extraordinarily fortunate that my joints and muscles are holding up to all this running so well so far. Plenty of friends – many of them younger than me – are already having real trouble with hips, knees etc. I like to think its because I have had the example of my mother and grandfather’s osteo-arthritis always before me, so I’ve taken fish oil supplements for my joints for years. But maybe I’m just genetically lucky on that score.