One year
ago this coming weekend, I ran my first 5k race. Never in a million years would
I have guessed that a year later, I would run my first marathon. The thought of
going so far, on foot, never crossed my mind. I’d heard about people who
suffered from injury and illness from long-distance running and thought, nah,
not for me. Those people are crazy!
Well, now
I guess I’m one of the crazy ones. But as I view everything in life, my first
marathon was a fantastic learning experience. Now that it’s been a few days, I
can even say it was a great experience (I couldn’t say that hobbling towards
the car a few blocks from the finish line, wondering how in the world my
fingers had doubled in size and wondering if I’d ever feel my toes again). So
for anyone aspiring to one day run a marathon, here are a few reflections from
me to you.
- Notice in the last line of that paragraph I said “run a marathon”. Run is actually a relative term here. Don’t get too down on yourself should you realize the only way to cross that finish line is by walking/hobbling/jogging the last 3.5 miles. Yeah, I know you trained and trained and can run forever. Just wait.
- Be prepared for any and all forms of weather, no matter what time of year it is. In Utah, we sometimes see snow until mid-June. Since many of the marathons and halfs around here start up in the canyons, wear layers. Bring a rain jacket of some kind. If you can, waterproof all your clothes (heck, if you can waterproof your skin, try that too – maybe that’s why my hands grew two sizes too large).
- To all the ladies: if you can at all avoid it, do not sign up for your first marathon during the week leading up to, or during, your period. During a time when you need to be on you’re A game mentally, this time frame is not conducive to fluctuating hormones. All last week I was struggling to keep emotions in check which any other week wouldn’t have given me any amount of noticeable distress. This made it incredibly difficult to have confidence that I could indeed finish the race I felt so ill-prepared for (as my longest run was only 14 miles). I almost didn’t show up for the race because I just didn’t think I could do it.
- As for the week of that time of the month, who wants to worry about leaking feminine hygiene products and carrying around extras? I can see it now: at mile 20, with reduced mental capacity, you grab what you think is a gel, rip it open, and pop it in your mouth to suck out the gu… only to discover you’re sucking on a tampon. Awkward.
- Baby steps. At mile 3, please don’t start thinking about how you have 23 miles left to go. Instant confidence crasher right there. I was lucky that this marathon had aid stations every two miles. After mile 9, I just had to start focusing on getting to the next aid station. I told myself at each one, I’d reevaluate, and if my body just couldn’t take it, I’d drop out. But at each one, I always found myself thinking, well, it’s just another two miles until the next aid station, I’ll keep going until that one.
- Be prepared for making an executive decision. Orders from the CEO don’t just come during important meetings in the board room. You are the CEO of your mind/body/spirit. I can guarantee there will come a point in the race where you realize you’re either in or out. Either you worked this hard and came this far for nothing, or you’re going to put on your big girl panties and keep going, even if you have to walk. By mile 17 I was so soaked, shivering cold, feeling sick to my stomach, and feeling pain radiating from every inch of my legs, I didn’t know if I could keep going. I stopped at a honey bucket for what seemed like the umpteenth time and made that executive decision. I was in the single digits. I heard Kermit in my head reminding me that I hadn’t trained this hard, run this many miles to quit now. I had heart surgery 6 weeks ago. I’m not a quitter. I knew I’d be disappointed in myself if I didn’t finish. This might be my only shot at a marathon before Ironman Cozumel, and I didn’t want to miss this opportunity. Okay, okay… it was really about the medal. I didn’t want to miss adding another one to my wall.
- Have a series of quotes you can repeat to yourself during the race to keep you motivated. And I don’t mean ones like “Behind every great man is a woman rolling her eyes” – Jim Carey. Although I guess you could substitute man for marathoner. Or this one: “A two-year-old is kind of like having a blender, but you don’t have a top for it.” – Jerry Seinfeld. After having the pleasure of listening to a runner gagging and losing their nutrition behind me after mile 17, I suggest we could substitute marathon runner for two-year-old. One of my co-workers from London who is training for IM Zurich this summer recently sent me these quotes: “by endurance we conquer” and Tennyson’s “to strive, to see, to find… and not to yield.” There are plenty of great running quotes out there. Find a few that resonate with you and have them ready when you’re about to give up.
- Keep your schedule fairly open for a few days after the race. Surprisingly, my soreness cleared up after about two days. What I wasn’t expecting was WW III in my digestive system. I rarely get stomach flus, but I’m guessing the stress of the race, terrible weather and lowered immune system from the approaching monthly time all combined to make me more susceptible to nasty germs. Thankfully, I could work from home and take some PTO time as I hadn’t scheduled any major meetings. Yeah, be prepared to take it easy for a few days.
- One of the signs I read as I was nearing the end of the race said, “It’s not about the when, it’s about the why.” Above all else, don’t forget why you are doing this. Every one of us has a reason. For me, it’s proving I could do something I never thought I could do – and it’s the next step on my way to becoming an Ironman. So even though I looked like an old lady hunched over and hobbling the rest of the day, even though I spent 5 blissful hours in the bathroom two nights later, and even though I have to start all over again with getting myself in good shape for my first half Ironman in 2 ½ weeks, it was worth it. Because I’ve proven to myself that I can do something hard, something I never thought I could. All I had to do was keep going – two miles at a time.
