Marathon.
I ran a marathon once. Not a full one just a little half one. That’s 13.1 miles and not the full 26.2. So really I should say I ran a half marathon once. I have no car sticker to prove it, just a picture of me jumping to the finish line. I don’t even know why I jumped, it was more of a big leap over. I remember right before it and seeing the clock say 3 hours Or almost 3. I wanted to at least finish before then.
It was hard but not as hard as I thought. Not as hard as others said it would be. I also didn’t train. I had decided just a couple of months before to do it and hadn’t ran since high school track. I was a good runner then, but I also didn’t have 4 babies and had grown by twenty years. I googled how to train for a marathon in two months. Google said basically, to go back In time and decide sooner. It didn’t say it was impossible though. It didn’t say not to.
I finished this half marathon in the same amount of time as runners finishing a full one. I never walked, never even thought I wanted to give up. I was actually mad I had to go left when the full marathon runners went right. I wanted to know what was that way. What would I see that way? What would I be missing? Would I want to quit? Would I need to walk? Would I die? I doubt I ever run a marathon again. But who knows. I know I can.
I found myself bored. It was physically hard, but it lacked interest to me. The most exciting part of the entire thing was staying in the hostile and meeting the other runners and hearing their stories. And my amazing pizza the night before from a little place down the road from the hostile. I was in Indiana, so I wasn’t going into it with a lot of glorious view expectations but I was hoping for something.
The most frustrating part was the time change in Indiana threw me off and I arrived way to early at the start line. Like the first one there. I helped set up barricades because I was bored. I had parked over a mile away at a Walgreens parking lot to avoid paying parking fees. I needed Tylenol for pain from my exposed root from a tooth that had broke the night before. I went in and asked the lady if I could park there and she said yes, because I had asked. Plus I figured a good walk back to my car would be in order after running so much. This proved to be true. What I wasn’t expecting was my legs to give out on me after then sitting in my car on the way back. I got out to get gas and buckled to the ground skinning my chin and elbow.
What I learned from this was. Nothing? I won’t be doing it again. Maybe. I just couldn’t figure out what all the hype was about running one so I think I needed to run one to see what it would be like. I ran in used shoes. Someone else’s shoes. I could have afforded new shoes but didn’t have time to break them in. So I figured a pair already broke in would be about the same. It is not. A broken in shoe from another persons foot is not the same as a broken in shoe for your foot. It may even have been worse than new shoes. They were heavy and one was too small. Actually my one foot is too big. Almost an entire size bigger than the other. I bought them for just a few dollars at my favorite thrift store. I usually have a rule about shoes used. I broke the rule to meet my deadline of a broken in shoe.
I found myself extremely overwhelmed with the amount of people who came. I stood by the little heat warming mechanism they had set up. Slowly watching the street fill with thousands of people. Are there this many people who run? I met so many from all over the country. Just little random chats. “Oh you have a blue bib, you are running the full? You are braver” “ Or crazier” he says. “We will go with braver .” I say back.
Then it all of a sudden seemed like too many. It was what drained me in the end. I didn’t just run on my own I ran with thousands of other peoples energy. I watched every runner I passed. Wondered what brought them. Some talked with each other as the panted. Why? I could feel the struggle for them. I would hyperventilate if I tried to talk and run or bite my tongue. Or fall. Or maybe even just miss a step and fall off the edge into water. Would there be water? I watched so many with shirts that said who they ran for. Their cause. Others run for others? Like a fundraiser I suppose. You collect money then run, then the cure is given? Or it’s closer to a cure? We have so many causes to run for and so many causes to run from. I wanted to be running for a cause not from a cause or for no cause. I needed a better reason to run.
I felt dressed wrong all of a sudden, I had no names or sponsors or teams. No one would be cheering for me. It was touching to see. People need other people to just be for them. You run for me. I can’t run. I want to but I can’t. I’m fighting a different battle than you. Run like the wind. Runners love to run. It’s what it means.
At the end I leapt. For the reason I said. I thought it would save me a few seconds. I imagined how I would cross the line. Would I fall, trip? Would I even make it? I passed people who didn’t. And were picked up. I worried about them. Would I pee right at that moment? Who will pick up all the cups from people drinking?So much litter on the streets. I carried water so I didn’t have to grab any water. I didn’t want to add to the work load of the streets department I know will have to clean this up. All the cups and pee from people who just run and pee. Do they? I watched. For people peeing.
I crossed the same time as a fellow coworker running a full marathon. I saw him at the end. He told me not to sit down. He is a triathloner. He runs for fun, for causes and no reason at all. He runs little 5 k’s in his spare time for training for his big ones. Which also were what he ran in his spare time. I had no one to cheer or be there in the end. So many did. I was there for myself, did that count? Does it count if you are your own cheerleader? What would it be like to have someone cheer for me? I have no idea. It would confuse me. Why are they there? Here? Who are they? How did they know I would be here? Who told them? Who did I tell? Is it motivating me? I don’t know. I’m too loud to hear them cheer. Maybe they are here for someone else. No one is usually there for me. This sounds sad. Except it’s not. It just is what it is.
My advice for anyone planning to run a marathon is to plan ahead. If the marathon is say, in 2 months. You could just decide next year giving you more like 14 months to train and buy and break in shoes.
Or.
Just do it. In your own shoes.
Aspenleaf 