I am trying to run a marathon for the first time and I have some thoughts about that
When I was a senior in high school and completely fed up with competitive running, I remember turning my anger on my coach, fueled by spite and youth and probably a grueling hill workout. “I can’t wait until I never have to do this again. This is making my life miserable. I am so jealous of people who don’t run. I will NEVER run again once this is over.” He shook off my vitriol like it was made of tissue paper. “You’ll always run”, he said. “It’s a part of you. Your life will never feel complete if you’re not doing it. You will always feel better if you are.” It’s been seven years since that conversation and- spoiler alert- he was right. The times in my life when I have struggled, when I have been unhealthy and unhappy, have always coincided with times I wasn’t running. I worry; I fret, I stress and ruminate, until I run. Then I just sweat and breathe and move my limbs and feel alive.
It’s been at least two years since I realized that even with an established pattern of noncompetitive, restorative running in my adult life, I would never feel complete until I ran a marathon. That sounds like a very pretentious thing to say; I know. I know it’s not for everybody, and it’s hard for a lot of people to understand. I don’t think it makes me better or stronger or more disciplined than anyone else. I do think it is something I need to do for my own fulfillment and growth as an adult human.
Anyway, I was able to put it off for months, citing being too busy, or too poor, or too stressed, to put in the time this kind of training requires. But, I’m doing it now. The race is two months away, and my longest run so far is 16 miles. I have many, many miles to go before I sleep, but, in the meantime, a few thoughts:
1. It’s been significantly easier to find routes and add mileage to already established routes than I thought it would be. “Wherever will I run 15 miles”, I wailed. Turns out it’s pretty easy. I just pick some sort of destination, run there, run around the destination for however long, and run home.
2. One of the best parts of increasing my mileage is the opportunity it’s given me to explore more of Seattle. I am not a generally adventurous person; I like to walk to my office every day and walk back to my neighborhood and then not leave that area unless forced, or cajoled re: a really excellent happy hour. I do not often feel stir-crazy or physically enclosed. Sometimes when I watch Orange is the New Black, I think about how I could probably handle solitary confinement with aplomb. Delusion of grandeur aside, all this is a roundabout way of saying that I do not venture to new places often. In the last few months of training, I have seen whole neighborhoods of Seattle that were previously only names on bus schedules (”Interbay?! Where in the hell is Interbay?”).
3. It helps that Seattle is freaking gorgeous and all I do is run around and gaze at bodies of water and think about how lucky I am to be here.
4. At this point I am spending at least two minutes post-run laying on the floor of my shower for every mile I run. This is a habit I should probably break before I get to the 20 mile mark.
5. Most of my 30-minute walking commute is now spent identifying different places in my lower body that ache and twinge. Walking up and down stairs is a fool’s game; immediately post-long run, it takes me at least twice as long as usual. Guttural animalistic yelps are common upon standing or sitting.
6. Much like my vegetarianism, I’m finding it better to avoid the topic of training with most acquaintances unless enticed to disclose it. My close friends and family and coworkers are blissfully, wonderfully supportive, but I am having way too many conversations of the following structure:
Me, at a social gathering: I have to go soon; I’m sorry, I just have some stuff I have to do tomorrow.
Person I barely know: What? It’s so early! You can stay longer. What do you even have to do tomorrow?
Me: Uh, ya know, some work, clean some stuff, ya know, and uhhh I havetogoforarun.
Person: You don’t HAVE to go for a run.
Me: Well, yeah, actually, I do. It’s just this race I’m running, it’s not a big deal.
Person: How many miles do you have to run tomorrow?
Person: What? That sounds horrible! Why would you do that? You know, I read an article once about how running is actually really bad for your body. You probably won’t be able to walk when you’re older. Do your knees hurt?
7. I am NOT an expert on running form or injury prevention in any way. That being said, strength training, particularly core training, is having a WAY bigger influence on my running than I anticipated. I used to struggle with lower back pain on long runs. Now that I’m focusing energy on strengthening my core, I can actually support my body without straining my back, and my posture has improved significantly. Stand up straighter + relax shoulders away from ears + keep hips forward + engage core + lift knees higher = less pain while running, and less of that “Now I am tired so my running form will disintegrate into a floppy shuffle” experience later in the run.
8. Listening to EDM while you are running is a bad idea unless you are a MASTER pacer. Same goes for Eric Whitacre (though choral music is surely a less likely training choice). Anything with too much buildup -> beat drop, crescendo or tempo shift will mess with your pace REAL quick if you’re not paying attention.
9. I’m discovering that for me personally, the best way to improve at long runs isn’t a bunch of long slow runs every week. It’s training short, hard, and fast most days of the week, with one or MAYBE two long runs. Is this basic distance training 101? Maybe, depending on the circle or camp you ask, but it’s counterintuitive to me, and therefore revelatory to see the payoff.
10. If you think you look sweaty and gross after running, marathon-training-running will allow you to reach a previously unforeseen level of filth, aroma, flyaway hair and salt-crusted skin. Today as I walked from the end of my sixteen-mile-run to my apartment, chugging Gatorade, a dude on the street exclaimed “Daaaaang, girl” as I walked by. I chalked it up as a garden-variety catcall until I got home and looked at myself in the mirror, as it rapidly became clear that his reaction was of surprised disgust at my ridiculous appearance, rather than one of physical attraction.
11. Screw the accessories. Seriously, screw ‘em. Anyone who tries to tell you that you need a smart phone + running GPS app + Garmin + FitBit + running belt + wireless headphones + nipple protectors + synthetic socks + costly specialized training program + admission fee to running club + IcyHot + polarized sunglasses to be a runner is bullshitting you. Don’t get me wrong; I know all these things help certain runners improve performance and decrease discomfort. And if a doctor tells you to get them, do it. But do you NEED them to be successful? In many cases, no. You do need good shoes. That is pretty much the only non-negotiable purchase, as far as I can tell. When it comes to running, I adopt a Buddhist detachment theory entirely absent from any other part of my life. You do not need all that shit to be a runner. You do not have to spend money on flashy gadgets to be a runner. You do not need to do anything to be a runner except run.
12. Although, in the interest in full disclosure, I HAVE been using a GPS app on my long runs. But that’s mostly because I have neither the patience to sit down and plan out my routes beforehand, nor the math skills to calculate with any certainty how many miles I’ve likely run compared to how much time I’ve spent running based on how fast I’m probably running. I kind of hate myself for doing it, and would love to abandon it in the future as I continue to get better at pacing and mapping, but so be it.
13. The most helpful tip so far has come from my unofficial running coach, Kenny Yumke. I say “unofficial” because he has no idea who I am or that we have such an arrangement, but I found his blog a few months back and he is a constant source of inspiration. The most helpful tip? Run the mile you’re in. Run the mile you’re in. Stop bogging yourself down worrying about how many miles are left, or the hilly area ahead, or what’s happening tomorrow. Run the mile you’re in.
True of many things, isn’t it? Be where you are. Make the best of it. The rest will take care of itself. See you on the trail, kids.