The alarm clock rings and I'm swift to press the snooze button, quite quickly realising that today is the day. I've prepared myself thoroughly for this and finally it's time. I seek no more sleep, bounce out of bed and head towards the bathroom. It's an early 07:18 Sunday morning, but I want to be relaxed and at ease with my body.
As I shower, I'm picturing how it will go. Nervous I am a bit, but not because I doubt my physical preparation, more because it's my first one. I have done this infinite times at the gym, but this is out there with everyone else. Who's going to judge me, who really is going to care if I even finish or not? Me! I need to do this for myself and kick away the ghost that haunts me. Years of hearing the same chant in my head has to be given a farewell today. "Chubby asthma suffering children can not only run a race but triumph at them too!" Enough said, after washing my fears away I dress up in my running best. Breakfast has always been a big deal and the best meal of my day. I enjoy this moment of the day, ensuring I balance my carbs. and don't over do the liquids. Banana girl comes to my head, I smile to myself and take a few bites.
Inhaler, check. iPod, check. Mobile, check. Let's go!
There's a crisp chill in the air, accompanied by radiating sunshine and a light wind. If there was an ideal climatic chart for this event, I would check all the boxes today. I'm standing quite far behind from the start line, itching to raise my feet and feel the motion. Stretched out and calm is how I feel surrounded by the couple of thousand fellow runners, who probably all have a story to tell just like mine, but today we share a common goal and are here to achieve it.
Let's go, let's go, let's go! Off I go! Steady paced and with a stupid smile on my face, I 'm soaking up the concrete and enjoying the suspension my legs give me. Don't sprint and overwork yourself with excitement is what I keep reminding myself. I'm absorbed in my music and don't hear a thing, but I can read the expressions on peoples faces. I pass the 2 km mark and look around to see many have slowed down, feeling a cramp just below their waist. Producing a sneaky smile, I swiftly jog past them and look at my watch.
"Vamos bien Goldie" I hear my trainers voice whispering in my head. I see the bystanders who are admiring the view. Some have cameras with them, others merely watching the show, but most of them take a moment to cheer us on. It's a stage I'm on and we are all leads today, no one is competing for first place because all are winners in this game.
Gran Via des Corts Catalans is a privelage to run on, wide lanes with spectacular views. Keep looking further and it really has no end. I'm creating a bond with these streets, they treat me with respect and I do the same.
Suddenly I feel my first testing moment. As I cut across Plaza Cataluñya and am about to enter into Las Ramblas, I can feel a pinching sensation in my chest. Go away, nobody invited you today. Don't steal my thunder! Gathering my happy thoughts, calm and serene I proceed to change the track on my carefully prepared playlist. Las Ramblas calls for a special something. Aahun aahun aahun , aahun aahun aahun, aahun aahun aahun aahun, aahun aahun aahun! Is it normal that I want to break into a bhangra at this point? I am overwhelmed by the number of tourists that visit this spectacular street, and what overwhelms me more is having the honour of running through it today. I brush past many of them, rubbing shoulders with most of them. Zig zag, zig zag, zig zag is the only way out here. They are in awe of this sudden avalanche of bullets that are zooming through and most of them cannot contain themselves, so break into a cheer and once again remind me of the stage I'm on.
4 km over, it's time for the final golden 1000m. How am I feeling? The Ramblas buzz has worn off and my legs are starting to tighten up a bit, sore shins remind me of the fact that I have not stopped once yet. Back up energy is now required and I make my appearance into Parallel. It's shocking this long long street seems way longer than what it actually is. I've slowed down my pace and I know this as most of them are over taking me. Should I just stop for a few minutes, I could walk and no one will ever know. I can't, not today! Go away, I told you no one invited you here... leave me alone and let me go. Track change! Ministry or Beyonce? I think it's desperate times, desperate measures... Ministry of Sound it has to be. Char suddenly pops into my head from no where. "Hello!" It's quite comforting having her there, as she reminds me how much she loathes RnB and loves Ministry. After that brief mental interlude, I focus and carry on to the finish line.
Final 200m for a runner is like reaching out to Mecca , holding your baby for the first time, first kiss or simply being "in the zone". Am i in the zone? You bet I am!
My legs have lost sense in them, arms and hands are propelling at supersonic speed, my heels are actually touching my buttocks and I am on fire. As I cross it, I want to scream, scream so loud so everyone can hear me. I refrain! I dial 2010 and hear his voice... "I did it!!" He's so excited for me, he forgets to cancel the call and in the background I hear "Did mama get her medal?". I smile to myself and say "I got the medal, I sure did."
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