Marathon training will get a person prepared for the physical challenge of running 26.2 miles.
What marathon training will not teach you is how to dig deep within yourself during points of total psychological agony and mental anguish.
Let me tell you about my marathon.
Prior to the marathon I had been feeling depressed. I had been studying for hours non stop, tapering my runs, not drinking alcohol or coffee, and feeling unwanted in a relationship. More negative thoughts flooded my brain that week than ever before. The voices in my head kept telling me that I would fail. I could not become my own advocate. To make matters worse I had strained my calf just 6 days prior to my race and had been icing it religiously. I had brought many of my anxieties and worries to Toronto, hoping to let them die or figure them out on the course. In actuality, I did neither.
When the gun went off at 7:30 am on Sunday morning- I had not a confident bone in my body. My gps watch was malfunctioned from the get go, telling me that I was running 4:53 miles at one point and then 8:43 miles just seconds later. After mile 3 there were at least 80 people ahead of me.
I ran up beside a man with a large faced watch and asked, "hey! How fast are we running?" He told me 4 minutes per kilometer.
Crap. Now I have to do math? I decided to switch my watch over to time elapsed so I could monitor how long it was taking me to reach the halfway point.
My parents who had driven me to the race never actually made it to the marathon course. They had been misguided and waited for me at the half marathon course which was miles away. I wanted to see them so bad. It just wasn't meant to happen.
At the 10k mark my calf started to feel funky. Each step made it feel as though the tendons nearest my knee were beginning to splay. I looked down to see if there was any noticeable swelling. None. The show went on.
I had been eating gels and gummys every 4 miles, which I had trained my body to do on the tempo runs. Unfortunately, non of my tempo runs were 26.2 miles- so when mile 17 hit the latest gel started to flow up my esophagus and onto my jersey. Luckily there was a water station nearby and I rinsed my mouth with gatorade.
At mile 17 I wanted to quit. I wanted to sit in the grass, let everyone pass me, and wallow in my own filth. I kept moving at a rapidly deteriorating pace and toyed with the idea of failure. But that wasn't the plan.
Out of nowhere this skinny dark haired man hopped onto the course and shouted to me- "Lets go guy! Im bringing you in." He had a running piny on that said Black Lungs Running Club on the front and "way" on the back. The guy coached me through the last 6.5 miles-staying just a few seconds ahead of me, grabbing me water at each station, counting down the kilometers left in the race and overall building my self esteem.
"Who the hell is this guy?" I thought. In a race of over 2000 people why me? Did I look that bad out there?
I really couldn't think too much of it until he shook my hand with 200 meters to go and said, "Go bring it on home man. Finish what you started." I sped to the finish line and he darted off the course.
When the race ended I mentally broke down. In the corral of people heading to the after party I leaned against the gated fence and wept. My hyperventilating made it feel as though I had wind knocked out of me. A stranger who was behind me in the race grabbed my shoulders and hugged me. We exchanged no words.
I felt as though God had intervened in that race, but Im hesitant to fully admit that. Why God would care about meaningless marathon is what I struggle to understand- but nonetheless I feel as though it was not a mere coincidence. That man was an angel to me.
When I saw my parents and youngest brother at the finish I hugged them, cried, and tried to say something but I couldn't. I felt as though my organs had been removed from my abdomen, my insides were absent. I felt a strange sense of hollowness.
When I returned home that night, the relationship that had recently been a huge stressor was abruptly pulled from me. The other person I'm sure wanted to pick another day, but there is never a good day for bad news.
The hollowness expanded. My insides were gone. I felt incredibly light.
May 4th 2014 dug deep into me, but it did not dig through me. If you know me at all- it takes more than a broken heart, broken body, or broken hope to get me to lay down. The world can rattle my spine and I would wake up the next day accepting a new challenge. Just. Keep. Swimming.
In conclusion:
I want to let all who are running their first marathon, half marathon, 5k or are taking on a new career/lifestyle change that you need to dig deep to accomplish your goals. When you dig to the core of yourself you will be free to accept the help of others and build a positive image of yourself. And when you do, you will create a masterpiece.
Stay well and ALWAYS run your own race.
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