You Just Keep Going

Right now I’m at about mile 17.  No, I’m not out running a marathon while I type this.  I’ll explain what I mean in a minute, but first I want to describe what a marathon feels like.  Running a marathon is like running a few different races all bunched together. It seems to go in chunks when you’re running it, with different emotions and thoughts hitting at different times.

The first 6 – 8 miles are an absolute blast (runners reading this are smiling and nodding, non-runners are shaking their heads and thinking “how could running 8 miles be an absolute blast?”  Hey, one man’s meat is another man’s poison).  You get caught up in the crowd’s energy, and the spirit of what’s going on.  You smile the whole time (non-runners are shaking their heads again), you feel like you’re running on air.  Also, you’ve been training your ass off doing 18 – 20 mile runs every weekend.  These first 6 – 8 miles feel like a warm up, so you keep going.

Moods change a bit from miles 9 – 13.  Body parts start to hurt.  You’re hungry and it’s dawning on you that you’re going to eat nothing but gels and water for the next few hours.  But you’ve trained hard and you’re not dying, so you keep going.

Mile 13.1 is where your multiple personalities kick in.  13.1 miles is the exact midpoint. The good voice in your head thinks things like “Hey, I’m halfway!” and “from this point on everything is a count down.  I got this!”  Then the bad voice takes over with thoughts like “Damn it.  If I’d signed up for a half marathon, I’d be done now,” and “I can’t believe I’m only half way.  I can’t do this.”  But since the end is now closer than the beginning, you keep going.

Miles 13.2 – 16 are not actually as awful as you’d expect.  You realize you’re in for the long haul, but you also realize that you’re actually doing it.  You get a second wind, so you keep going.

Miles 16 – 23, ah what to say about these?  Simply put, they suck.  They are the absolute worst parts of the marathon.  You are completely exhausted.  You realize that you’ve done so much already, but you still have so far to go.  You start doubting whether you can finish, and you even start fabricating some exit plans.  But then you think about your family, and how you don’t want to teach your kids to quit when things get hard, so you keep going.

2011 NYC Marathon, Mile 23

At mile 23, your body and brain fall out of sync.  Your body is hurting.  Every step is painful.  Muscles you still need for the next 3.2 miles are sore and starting to quit, but you have to keep moving and punishing them.  At the same time, though, you feel pretty elated.  You’ve just run 23 miles.  You have little more than a 5K left.  You run 5Ks on your rest days.  Your body is done and wants to give up, but your brain is euphoric, and it’s the brain that’s in control.  So you keep going.

At mile 26, things turn surreal.  You suddenly have an extra kick in your step (that you wish you had back around mile 19), and you feel like you’re sprinting.  Your mind is overflowing with happy thoughts: you’re about to do this.  You’re about to finish a marathon.  You’re about to complete something that only 1% of the population has done.

And then you cross the finish line.  You smile and cry at the same time.  You throw your arms up in the air while the rest of your body starts to collapse.  You did it.  Now where can you get something to eat?

That’s what a marathon feels like, at least to me.    Right now I’m not training for one.  I’m not training for any of my 4 triathlons I registered for this spring and summer or the multitude of running races that I registered for or had at least planned on.  I’m not doing anything. 

It’s been just over 3 weeks since my orthopedist found a stress fracture in my left foot and sentenced me to a month on crutches, and at least 6 weeks in a boot.  Once I’m able to wear two shoes again, it will be a little while longer before I can run at all, and even longer before I can start training seriously again. 

Recovering from a stress fracture feels just like running a marathon.  The pain is relatively similar, and the thoughts and emotions are pretty well lined up. At first I thought it was no big deal.  Then I got bored doing almost nothing.  When I got to the halfway point of using my crutches, I was thrilled that I only had two weeks left on them, but at the same time I couldn’t believe that I still had two weeks left on them. 

That’s why I’m at about mile 17.  I’m pretty far along, but nowhere near the finish line.  I’m trying to stay positive, but with each passing week I miss another race I had registered for. I’m worried I won’t get in the 9 races I need to qualify for next year’s marathon, and in the back of my head it’s dawning on me that I may not be healed and running again in time to train for the one this year.

The thought of losing two marathons with one injury has gotten me down.  But, I keep telling myself that I’ll be running at some point.  I’m currently missing out on my favorite running weather, but there will be another springtime next year and I expect to have two functioning feet.  It is what it is, and there’s not a whole lot I can do about it.  So, I am just focusing on the finish line and I just keep going.