I got lost. I was running with a bunch of other runners, I had a map in my hand. But I got lost. What started as a relaxed, peaceful run turned ugly but it has made me reflect on my attitude these past few weeks.

When my running friend informed me that she would not be able to run, I still decided to head out with the rest of the running group, knowing full well that they were all way faster than me and would most probably run off after the first km. I still thought I was fine. Map in hand. Off I went.

It was when I got passed 7.5kms that I started to worry. Where was the turnaround point? Was the map right? Why was I stuck on such a busy main street? Where were the other runners? I couldn’t see any of them so I decided I’d better head back the same way I’d come. But somehow, I got it wrong. I took a wrong turn and landed up in the dodgiest of streets.

My gut told me things weren’t right. I suddenly felt scared, alone and incredibly vulnerable. All I wanted to do was cry. I started to blame others; the faster runners for not waiting, KK for not being with me; my gammy knee which had started to ache; pretty much everyone got a swearing. But most of all I blamed myself. I hated that I found myself in that helpless situation. I hated the fact that I ran so slowly and couldn’t keep up with anyone else. I hated running and I had no idea where I was going.Losing myself

It’s been two weeks since the incident and I’ve spent lots of time reflecting on that day. A lot of what I went through feels so familiar to how I’m feeling at the moment. I’m lost. I don’t know if it’s just the end of the year fatigue setting in, but I’m not myself.

It feels as if I’m still out there on those streets with my body filled with anguish and confusion. It feels as if nothing is familiar. The more I run, the less I see. The faster I go, the further everything feels. I’m not myself and my map is not helping me. I’m blaming everyone else for my lose of direction. I’m irritated with everyone, including myself.

I’ve lost sight of the goal. I’m lost. I need to find my passion again and I’m glad I’ve stopped to realise it now before it’s too late. Instead of blaming and allowing the situation to overwhelm me, I need to take back control.

I took this beautiful pic on my long run on Sunday, a week after I got lost. I stopped to appreciate things along the way.

I took this beautiful pic on my long run on Sunday, a week after I got lost. I stopped to appreciate things along the way.

This past Sunday I went out for a long run. Compared to the previous week, my head was right. I was prepared. I loved my run. Every single minute of it.

Oh no! This can’t be happening already!

I didn’t want to say anything but I feel this blog is all about my running life stress so I might as well share what happened. I had my first nightmare about next year’s Two Oceans Half Marathon last week. There, I said it. Insane, I know.

Entries opened and within the first two hours, KK had successfully entered me. My heart still froze when I received the email confirmation. I’m in. My name is entered. No going back now. The countdown has begun. The following day, I commented on a running coach buddy’s blog about the confusion around cut-off times. Was it still 3 hours? Or did they cut it down by 10 minutes? This niggled me for a while and stressed me out. I don’t have any spare minutes to waste… 8 minutes per km Bron! What to do?

So of course, with it being on my mind and stupid me stressing about it, I had such a bad dream on Thursday evening and woke up sweating. In my dream, I was running the race. It was raining. I was doing fine. I got to the top of Southern Cross but made a wrong turn. I got lost. I couldn’t find anyone. I eventually ran into some arb person’s house to ask for help. But by this time, the clock was ticking and I knew in my heart, I was never going to make it. That’s where my dream ended and I woke up feeling very stressed out and upset.

What is it about this race that stresses me out so much? I can’t explain it! I’ve run so many half marathons before, but this race just gets to me. The fear is just too great!

This is not the best start to my countdown to Oceans. If you’ve followed my blog, you’ve heard me say this over and over again: The race is in my head. It really is.

I need to get my thoughts under control and start telling myself that it will be okay. Because to suffer through another 5 months of this anxiety is not going to be fun.