The two weeks that fixed my life #2

So, the next week: the week I walked 21.1km about an hour faster than I expected, and rode that mojo all the way through the Fear Wall.
I really only did the half mara becuase I couldn't get a refund on the hotel - I'd been away from home for five weekends in a row and I wasn't expecting anything much. I was just happy I could be out there and re-visit the MCG and get some bling. I like bling.
It was fun to go through all the nutrition and hydration plans of My Old Life. I was grateful to be certain I could walk that far. I woke up feeling good, and I decided the approach would be 'not comfortable'. If I felt comfortable, I had to go harder. I was so pleased that I could hold my concentration and my pace - kms were consistent to 5sec except for when I had to make my way through 5000 5km runners coming through the course in the opposite direction, but let's not go there - and I felt happy that I was strong enough to sweat it up for hour after hour. Fight Song came on the 1p0d and I got a bit teary - f*** you injuries and weight gain and bereavements and f*** you always feeling overwhelmed and f*** you depression - I thought you took EVERYTHING. But not so! I'm still REALLY STRONG and this is A GREAT DAY.
I didn't wear a watch, so I was utterly gobsmacked and beyond thrilled to see 3.39 on the clock - I'd been expecting well over four hours! Stupid Determination IS a substitute for training! My finish line videos and photos show this crazy grinning person who looks like Dumbo crossed with the Tin Man but they're clearly wrong - I was floating. I was a f***ing superhero. I was SO HAPPY.
Gosh I felt sorry for the chick who had to sit next to me on the bus on the way home. Unless she liked sweaty snoring.

The spell of the bling was obviously upon me when I decided to ride this wave of mojo all the way into the beach and take on the Scariest Thing In The World - I told effbee I was going to do the local mini-tri! Without going into too much detail,  even thinking about these events has been an abyss of fear, shame, and sadness for me. After I posted that I was going, I nearly cried. I felt sick all day. I nearly made myself late but The Spousal Unit was across that and had my bike and my bag on the verandah ready for me. I rode off, wishing I could get lost (it's 2km from my house) or forget how to ride or something.
Of course it was fine! Lots of people I knew were there, and seemed genuinely pleased to see me. They were not the hateful tormentors of yore. It was quite fun! The bike felt much better than I expected. My approach to the (ahem) "run" (equal counts walk/run) was 'stay uncomfortable'. No excuses. No extra walks. It's not far. I was a little bit distracted by kind Jacinta (is this your very first tri?) but she was being friendly and ran most of the way with me.
Last Wednesday I broke out of the prison of my own fearful thoughts and I'm never going back there.

More anon, sparklers!