This last weekend I participated in and completed my first, and very possibly only ever, marathon. It started in the mountains of Ojai, California and ran down to the beach in Ventura, California. The weather was perfect, the scenery was amazing and the experience...well, you can read for yourself.
I will save descriptions of the months of training for my future book 'I Run the West and You Can Too'. For today I will simply delve into the marathon experience itself with this one preface. I faced that day knowing that I was not half as prepared as I needed to be and my goal was to finish on my own and with no injuries. As I rode the shuttle bus up into the mountains in the pitch black of 4am I reminded myself of my goal. For twenty minutes I repeated to myself, "You just have to finish this thing, even if you have to walk for some of it that is okay. Just finish with no injuries." In between each reminder to myself I would pray, "Please God help me finish this run, I really don't think I am ready to do it.". While staring out the window blindly at the darkened shapes passing by, I saw the past several months of training flash before my mind's view. Mostly I saw opportunities passed up because I wanted to sleep in or hang out with family/friends. I yelled at myself for choosing the path of the sluggard while being faced with this deadline. Here it was facing me and I was so completely ill prepared. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and exhaled. Once again reminding myself that I was here now and needed to do the best that I could with the situation. No use crying over training runs left undone.
I had left with the earliest shuttle bus which put me into Ojai about an hour and a half before the race actually started. This gave me too much time to work myself into a panic, so instead of allowing down time I chose to embrace my nerd self and walked the streets of what turned out to be a super cute California mountain town. I found plenty to interest my ever learning brain and in what seemed like twenty minutes it was time to get into the bathroom line for the last time before the starting gun. (They didn't actually use a gun, some guy yelled go really loud. Apparently the residents of Ojai don't relish being woken at six in the morning on a Sunday by a starting pistol.)
At six am I said my final prayer while watching the waves of runners start out. (I knew I would be super slow, so I was at the back.) A deep breath and I was off...only 26.2 miles to go. I have to say the first six miles were easy. I was running a slower pace than normal saving my energy for later in the day, but I felt strong and I felt good. The first six miles were also a circular loop out of town and back through the starting line, which was a bit of a downer when I realized I had run six miles and not even gotten anywhere closer to the actual finish line. But I was slightly cheered by the thought that I only had 20 more miles to the end. (It cheered me for all of half a second until my brain realized that 20 miles is a ton of miles!)
Miles 6-10 were what I would call the awe miles. I was moving at a steady pace, but not so fast that I couldn't appreciate the scenery. We were weaving through tiny communities and orchard/farmlands with sweeping views of the mountains around us. It was beautiful and I was energized enough to truly enjoy the process and soak every bit of it in. I took time to thank God for blessing me to be able to move as well as I was and to be able to enjoy this experience and I reveled in the fact that never again in my life would I be in this very moment feeling this very way. When people talk about 'living in the moment' I truly believe what I was feeling was the literal interpretation of that phrase. It was beautiful, it was perfect. And to top it all off I knew I had left my fitbit challenge friends in the dust with the number of steps I was getting in! (Not the point, but a nice bonus.)
In miles 10-14 I was still cruising at a steady pace. A fellow runner kept time with me for a couple miles and we were able to chat about the experience and our goals in the race. I was comforted to know there were other runners on the course who were satisfied with the accomplishment of finishing the race even if they would not ever be fast enough to win an overall placement. I was reassured that it is not less meaningful to finish the race beating your own self and not getting a 'great time' in the eyes of others. When I crossed the halfway point I felt confident that maybe I could truly do this. In fact, maybe I could not only finish the race, but I could do so in less time than I had expected! My hopes soared as I imagined myself crossing the finish line in under six hours. (Yeah, that's still a long time for a marathon but it would be less time than I was planning for.)
Soon after mile 14 I began to feel my hip flexors tighten up. I briefly considered stopping to stretch them out, but as I had not stopped or slowed my pace yet I was hesitant to do so. I decided to push through and promised myself that if I truly felt the need to stop or walk I would do so. Long story short...I should have taken the time to stop and stretch right then. I lasted to about halfway through mile 16 when I realized I had begun to become so tight my stride was half it's normal size (and I have a small stride to begin with). I stopped and stretched at a concrete ditch on the side of the road, but much of the damage had already been done and my hip flexors would not fully release. This began my slow decline in speed through the remainder of the race.
Miles 17-20 were what I will call the prayer miles. My muscles were not seizing or spasming, but they were so tight that I had dropped down to what can only be described as a seriously slow jog. Twice during this stretch I had to slow for what I called prayer breaks (Where essentially I would slow to a walk to catch my breath and beg God to help me be able to finish without any injuries.) and to attempt to stretch out my now very tight muscles. It was during this section that I also had my most delightful encounter in the entire race. I had just finished walking about a half a block's length when I saw at the crest of a hill three young boys in track uniforms walking toward me. When they got up to my spot they asked if they could run with me for a little while and I told them they could. They then proceeded to run about a half a mile with me encouraging me and telling me how proud they were of my dedication and what an inspiration it was that I was doing something I had never done before. At the end of the half mile we came to a tent where their parents had set up water and snacks for runners and they offered me anything I needed to be able to finish the race. Those boys may never know, but they helped to carry me through the next couple miles. I found myself refreshed and somehow less sore than I had been since mile 14. I felt tears sting my eyes as I thought, "This is it, I am going to make it.". Their presence was such a gift at just the right moment.
During miles 20-22 I tried to play Jedi mind tricks on myself. All of which failed because apparently I am the worst padawan who ever attempted to use Jedi powers. (I already admitted to being a nerd, lets not rehash that point now.) I started by telling myself in mile 20 that 'You only have 6.2 miles left, that is just a 10K and you have done tons of 10K's before. You can do a 10K easily!' After hearing my brain laugh and mock my efforts of persuasion for the rest of mile 20 I tried again at the mile 21 marker. 'Only 5 miles Laura, you can totally accomplish 5 miles that is easy, you've got this.' Somehow repeating these thoughts for the duration of the mile did not work to convince me of their veracity. At this point 5 miles may have well have been 50. Like the phrase on my favorite running shirt says, 'everything hurt and I was dying'.
If I thought miles 20-22 were miserable, I had no idea what misery was. On mile 22 the course started a gradual ascent in elevation. Nothing you would normally call a hill, but everything after 22 miles of running feels like a hill. This is when pure misery hit me. Between mile 22 and the end of the race I took two more walking breaks and crossed over from the 'please help me do this' frame of mind to the 'please help me not be mean to everyone who is trying to cheer me on but who I want to pummel' state of mind. Somewhere between mile 22 and 23 a poor citizen trying to encourage me made the mistake of saying, "You're almost there". I tried to keep from throwing eye daggers at him as I half smiled and said, "after over 20 miles nothing is almost there." Which I feel was showing great self control since I wanted to scream at him, "You idiot!!! Four miles is NEVER almost there!!!". At mile 24 the course began a significant incline which lasted for almost a mile. I wish I could tell you I was able to keep the angry and sarcastic part of me at bay, but she was out and in search of prey. I yelled (to no one since I was running alone at this point) 'Whoever sold this course as downhill is either an idiot or a liar! Why am I still running uphill?!'.
By the time I came to the mile 25 marker I had crossed over from anger into acceptance. I knew I should be trying to move myself forward faster, after all I only had a little over a mile left to run, but no matter how hard I tried I could not force my body to move any faster than what felt like a slow plod through molasses. I just had nothing left in me beyond the simple force of will to keep moving forward no matter how slow. In the last quarter of a mile I had to laugh as a man who was walking caught up to and crossed the finish line just ahead of me. At that point his walk was faster than my run. As I finally crossed the finish line six hours and fifteen minutes after starting I saw my niece waiting at the end and began to tear up. I was handed a bottle of water and a medal and as I put it on my neck my niece asked how I felt. With no hesitation I honestly replied, "I never want to run that far again in my life."
51 hours have come and gone since I crossed that finish line and I am well into my recovery period. At this point I am confident that my feelings upon crossing that finish line are still firm and clear. I am so glad that I did this marathon, but I do not feel the need to conquer another. I will keep running half marathons, because I just love running. But a full marathon does not appear anywhere on the horizon for me. That being said, I am so glad that I did not drop out at the last moment, as I was considering doing the week prior when I knew I was not sufficiently prepared. There are so many lessons one learns when they push themselves beyond what they believe themselves to be ready for or capable of. I am thankful to be on the other side of the race knowing that being unprepared and having to go at a slow and steady pace did not prevent me from being able to achieve such a great goal.
Because I firmly believe we should learn from the experiences of others, here are a few things I have learned through this process:
- Until you have faced an overwhelming obstacle that scared you and forced yourself to overcome it anyway, you will not know how much strength is in you.
- There are so many things in life I have shied away from because I was afraid I could not succeed. The true loss I experienced by giving up was the chance to learn how capable I really am.
- When you find yourself alone and scared...know that you are never alone.
- Even as I was trudging along on unfamiliar mountain roads with no one at my side. I had the strength of the prayers and well wishes of loved ones going out before me and preparing my way. I had the peace of knowing an omnipotent God who designed me with the strength and ability to overcome this very moment was ever by my side. I had the anticipation of family waiting for me at the finish line, confident that I would make it.
- When someone tells you a race is 'all downhill' know that they are either misinformed or a liar.
- Nothing is ever 'all downhill', it's just not. Don't believe it for a moment. Know that you will be faced with fighting up hill battles in anything that is worth accomplishing.
- You will feel the entire gambit of emotions the human psyche is capable of experiencing.
- Do your best to control the anger when you feel it welling up in you. (And yes it will come to some degree at some point in your journey, trust me.) Do your best to hold onto the joy and peace when it overwhelms your senses, because it WILL be indescribably overwhelming.
- Be willing to stop and stretch the minute you feel yourself getting tight.
- I allowed pride to keep me pushing through and I payed for it in the end. Be humble enough to acknowledge when your body needs to slow down or stretch.
And Finally...
Know that if you have beat your own records, you have accomplished what you set out to do.
- There will always be someone faster and better than you, and even if you are the fastest right now someone is training who will at some point beat your records. Beating others can never be the path to conquering yourself.
