At last

Marathon Day came and went on Sunday October 20th, 2013. I've had a few days to digest some thoughts as to what transpired.

I arrived the day before, checked into my hotel, attended the expo, picked up my packet, bought some running bars and a new belt with zipper-pouch, and had a brief acupuncture session on my right foot. That evening I had a modestly-sized bowl of spaghetti and a glass of wine from a nice restaurant.

I didn't sleep well the night before, in my hotel room. I tossed and turned, nervous about the day and anticipating the pain and exhaustion. Would I succumb to it, or sail through like I did before? I had no idea. I kept waking up on the half-hour.

At 6:00 am, I drove downtown and boarded the first shuttle bus to the university. It was in the mid-thirties, so I kept my sweatpants and hat on. Warming up consisted of standing leg stretches and just a little bit of yoga (the ground was wet and cold- impractical for staying warm if my butt was soaked).

When it came time, I lined up with the 5 hour Pace Runner (the last of the semi-organized groupings that would ensure the crossing of the finish line in that time). I was more nervous than excited- the fanfare was substantially less than my last marathon over 3 years previous. Maybe it was my tight hat gripping my ears, but I didn't even hear the starting gun. The group started the inevitable ebbing and flowing towards the arches.

As cold, rainy and grey as the day was, it was a decent day for a run. After the first few miles of hanging right with the 5 hour pack, I began to lighten up and enjoy it. The rural routes mirrored what I trained around, the townspeople gathered to encourage us, and the smattering of cowbells were welcome. A young woman named Niki was pushing her handicapped brother Mike in a stroller, much to the delight of family, friends and supporters. That was inspiring, but I have to admit that I grew increasingly disconcerted that they kept passing me by, even after making pit stops. She was definitely powerful that day, and none of it rubbed off on me.

By mile 11, I noticed something was wrong. My energy was depleting. My stop and walks at water stations grew longer and longer. At the 13.1 half-marathon marker, both of my feet hurt, I finished a Clif bar I had been gnawing on, and slowed my pace. I wasn't tight in the legs or cramped up; I just lost my endurance. For the next half, I ran a few blocks, and walked probably even longer. It was grueling, using sign markers and cowbell-toting supporters to help propel me on a little further. Without them, I may have quit altogether; it was very tempting. I was too tired to get introspective or be disappointed that I wasn't carrying myself the way I thought I should be.

I ended strong, coaxing a young woman along that had been in my vicinity for the last few grueling miles in the final stretch. We both ended at about 5 hours and 45 minutes. I should be entirely happy that I finished the race and didn't drop out.

But I'm not. Not completely, anyway. I am not proud of my performance, and that's only because I had an expectation in my head that I would carry myself better for the last 6 months. I did the long training runs, bought the supplements, and took care of myself the way I knew how to. I am glad, however, that I completed- I most definitely needed to do this.

I was so strong 3 years ago, and so happy to be sailing along with my big goofy grin. I completed that marathon in 5 hours and 4 minutes (I attribute a delayed bathroom break at mile 16 to my loss of 4 minutes- I couldn't catch up to the pace runner after that). I saw the official clock ticking along the way and kept right on track, pushing on through. I was exhausted, sure, but there was nothing to stop me; no aches or pains or doubts. It was a beautiful day that ended with a smile on my face- I have the pictures to prove it.

Maybe it was the grey day that eventually got to me and depressed my performance, or even the self-defeating expectations that I slowly realized were not going to come to fruition. Maybe I lost sight of the original reason I set out to do the marathon in the first place. Maybe it was that I weighed 15 pounds more than I did 3 years ago. Maybe it was because I am 3 years older. Maybe I'm too hard on myself.

A coworker shared with me that after childbirth, a hormone is released into the brain that attempts to help the new mother forget the excruciating pain and discomfort she just experienced. "Oh, I could have another baby." she might think, her body cursing the procreative mammalian instinct. Now, I really cannot equate the two, but I'm thinking that I've been self-induced with something similar in order to forget the lousy run I had a few days ago. I may be destined to revisit the experience at least once more.

Shed some winter fat, eat better, consciously increase my speed and use a running group as a perpetual sounding board. The 5 hour mark still eludes me, and I may or may not be at peace with that.

Training is over

The lack of activity on my blog here does not reflect the activity in my running endeavor. It just didn't make sense to update every single run I took on (plus MapMyRun.com served as a surrogate to brag about my longer training runs in the meantime). I lost sight of my original goal. I am, however, committed to run the October 20th Mankato Marathon. And I am ready. 5 days to go.

It's been a pretty hard time for me lately. The one thing I have going for me is this marathon; this little milestone to call my own. I am coming to the realization that it has always been a solo effort, and that's what it was meant to be. Could I have done a fundraiser for the Boston bombing victims as I originally intended? Yes, I could have. But I didn't, and I feel bad about that. But transitions in my life prevented me from pursuing that effectively and responsibly. It would have been a nice gift to benefit their families in a coordinated online effort.

Instead, I think that Krystal, Lu and Martin gave me a little something- the idea that I could do this again, without excuses floating in my head. And just in the nick of training time- from the sadness in their deaths, to the move to action, to the many runs (short and long), to the commitment to registration, and finally to the (eventual) completion. They taught me, in their passing, that life is a painful endeavor, often without grace. Roads highs and low and all of that. The simple metaphor that "life is a marathon" remains trite, but true. It's exhausting, painful and exhilarating. It's just what it is. Nothing more.

And it's worth it.

I'll be going by myself this Saturday, picking up my race number and packet, staying overnight, and then waking up bright and early to spend 5+ hours with 3000 strangers on rural routes, descending hills and small town streets. Then I'll rest, take a shower, and then drive home. So this one belongs to me. I've put in the time; the pained knees, the aching feet and tight hamstrings. But, like anything, these things heal and I continue on. I've done everything that I know how to do in preparation (besides eating more responsibly- I can't ignore my carbohydrate cravings entirely), and I feel strong enough to endure this one more time.

Because I can.

Registered- now I gotta do this thing.

It's for real now. A light at the end of the tunnel:

http://mankatomarathon.com/

winds of change

OK, so I haven't posted in a little while. A few reasons for this: #1 I don't think that anyone is reading, so I'm just babbling to myself. #2 I don't have a fundraising effort up and running yet #3 My original marathon (The Twin Cities Marathon) filled up a few weeks ago, knocking the wind out of my sails.

Regardless, I'm still training, and looking at another marathon in Mankato, MN. It's a week or so after Twin Cities, the course seems good enough, and has the merit of qualifying for the Boston Marathon (adding to its legitimacy as a course). I think this is one to aim for, once I have the cash to register, which should be soon given my recent promotion. Of course, I don't want to make the faux pas of waiting too long again.

I'm on track with my training, I believe. I just ran 11 miles on Saturday, and will kick it up in the next week or so to run a half-marathon length. An unseasonably cool day allowed for a good run. It felt good again, and for the first time since I began this endeavor, I really felt like I could do this thing. I have to; it's all I really have going for me right now.

Runs #20 and #21- Tai-chi this mutha, part II

A 4 mile run Wednesday was challenging through late afternoon humidity, but it was done. Today's 6.25 mile run (a repeat of the run that almost did me in) went much better. A few block-long walks aside, I kept a good pace, and was even mindful of the hills attempting to drag me down. I envisioned a buoyant head that lifted my body, avoiding, at least in my mind, the trudging and dragging up the several larger inclines in my neighborhood.

So, a little progress, and a step in the right direction. There will be a longer route to take, whether this next week or the week after.

I've earned the party that I'm going to tonight. :)

Runs #18 and #19- not like riding a bicycle

After a week away and a cold that knocked me out last week runs 18 and 19 were sorta... sucky.

#18 was a 4 miler after I returned from a week in L.A. I completed that fine, but I certainly felt the one week absence. #19 was today after acquiring a cold for some reason (probably from the seething cauldron of evil called a United Airlines return flight). My endurance wasn't where it was, so I decided to take a much shorter 2.5 mile run around the neighborhood. It was hot too- my arch nemesis. I plan to try again Wednesday; gotta get back up to normal.

Runs #16 and #17- The Apollo Creed creed

Tuesday was a decent 4 miler.

Today was anything but.

I decided to attempt a longer run before my vacation tommorrow. Halfway through it, and halfway up a hill, I stopped to walk. I wasn't physically tired or in any sort of pain, but I stopped. I psyched myself out of it. I contined to move on once I reached the top, but after a few blocks, I stopped again. It was warmer than I expected (around 80), but it wasn't overwhelming. I decided that if it wasn't making sense today, I would turn into the nearby trail park to take the shortcut home.

After stopping to sit in the shade of a pavillion, I forced myself to reflect on this unprecedented wussification. It could have been any number of things; the heat, loss of focus on my training, poor diet, recovering from a demoralizing 6 month assigment in a department where I shouldn't have been assigned in the first place.

The clarity I gained was along the lines of "so what?"- in Rocky III, Apollo Creed yells at Rocky when he's unmotivated in his training. "There is no tommorrow!"

With that weird mantra, I decided to grab a drink of water from the fountain, get back onto the trail and finish what I started. It wasn't a graceful, powerful enduring run. But I did it. 6.23 miles.

I'll try it again in a week.