Marathon #2 – Naiveté debunked

I went into my first marathon totally clueless and unconvinced that I could really go that far on my two little legs. I had a completely different attitude about the St. George marathon. I developed a plan – a conservative plan. I’d been training for a full Ironman. I’d been practicing my nutrition. And more importantly, I was running for the Dove Center, raising money for women who have been to hell and back and are fighting to rise above the negativity living in their head, much as I’ve been doing for years.

I felt confident. I felt good. I knew I could do it.

It didn’t go as I expected.

The pain started on top of my right foot, extending from my big toe back towards my leg. Then my hips started hurting. Next was my inner ankle on my left foot. I took my time heading up the dreaded Veyo hill – downing a honey stinger and walking at a very brisk pace. At mile 10, still only feeling minor pain, I made my first stop to use the potty. Still feeling good and strong, I took off.

I was averaging 10:30 minute miles (30 seconds faster than my plan), but this was still conservative (I could do 8:30 on shorter distances), so I was confident I could keep going at this pace, or slow it down if I needed to. Then at mile 11, I started having GI issues and had to stop three more times over the next 6 miles. At mile 13, I was in a lot of pain. From that point, I stopped at almost every aid station to get Icy Hot spread over my foot and hips (Heavenly!). I kept pushing on, having plenty of energy still and knowing I could fight through pain. I could do hard things.

At around 15 miles, I started getting a slight twinge on the side of my left knee. Then at 17.5 miles, terrible pain shot through my knee and up and down my leg. I stopped running, and the pain subsided. After walking a few steps, I tried running again. Immediately, the pain started on the side of that knee. It felt like someone was taking two rough rocks and rubbing them together. Thinking about my upcoming Ironman, I decided it was best to not push it. I didn’t want to seriously damage my knee and be out of that race.  

I started out walking as quickly as possible and kept about a 14 min pace. As long as I walked, my knee didn’t hurt. But the further I went, the more painful it got, and the slower I went. By the last miserable 2 miles, I was barely hobbling at a 19 min pace. Over those 8 grueling miles, I had tons of thoughts go through my head. I wondered if I should pull out altogether to save my knee. I wondered if I needed to get myself to an instacare as soon as I finished. I wondered if I could really walk for 8 miles. I had tons of energy, and every time someone passed me, I wanted to just take off. I knew I could run fast and finish strong… except for my knee. I tried a couple more times to just jog, but each time, the pain was just too much.

So I decided to try and make the best of it. Since I was moving so slowly, I took time to look at the scenery. Southern Utah really is gorgeous, and a lot more varied than I had expected. Red rock, white rock, black rock – there was a little bit of everything. I loved seeing the hang gliders zooming over us at one section. The sun was shining. I kept reminding myself that at least it wasn’t raining like in Ogden.

As the 5 hour and then the 5:30 pacing group passed me, I felt discouraged that I wouldn’t reach my goal of finishing in 5 hours or less. I was so frustrated that I felt good enough to run fast, but my knee just wasn’t having it. I became angry at myself. Maybe I shouldn’t have done this race. Maybe I should just quit. But then I thought of the Boise Half Ironman back in June. That is the only race I’ve DNF’d (did not finish) and it took me a good month to pull out of my funk and regain some semblance of self-confidence after I couldn’t finish the swim. I knew if I pulled out of this race, it would affect my mental capacity to prepare of Cozumel. I couldn’t risk that.

Then I thought about life in general. Sometimes we make a plan. It’s a good, solid plan – backed by research, preparation, and confidence. We can’t imagine there being any flaws to the plan. But then, just like my knee, something comes out of the blue and halts our plan. We didn’t see it coming, didn’t plan for it, and might feel frustrated, disappointed, and discouraged that we can’t continue with our plan. We need to make a new plan.

Then I thought of all those women who the Dove Center helps. I’m sure they didn’t plan on marrying or being with a man who hurt them. I’m sure some of them had plans to be doctors, scientists, or maybe even a ballerina or two. And now they’re fighting to not give up and not give in. I couldn’t give up either.

Then today I was thinking about how God has a plan for us. He sees the big picture. He knows that sometimes, we need a bum knee to help us stop and slow down – and learn something important. I didn’t plan on getting divorced. I didn’t plan on being a single mom of two kids for six years. Heck, I wanted to be a high school marching band director and play my sax in a jazz group. I wanted five kids. I wanted to travel the world. I wanted to become a published poet.

But today I noticed my computer’s photo slide show and I realized just how many awesome things I’ve done with my life. I’ve been to some amazing places, met some inspiring people. I’ve learned some tough lessons that made me stronger. I’ve taken vacations with my kids, interned in the Pentagon, finished my Master’s degree, had research and articles published, worked at a great employer, dated some guys who have all taught me valuable lessons - most especially how to see the good in myself. I’ve overcome fears. I’ve loved others. And I’ve soaked up love from so many people.

See, God has a plan for me too. It certainly wasn’t my plan. But my plan wouldn’t have included all the adventures I’ve been on. It wouldn’t have included all the pain and heart break – because who wants to go through all that? But He knew that was the only way for me to grow stronger.

When I was a couple hundred yards from the finish line, I grit my teeth and started jogging. No one lining the shoot knew what I’d been through, or how much pain I was in right then. No one knew I’d had heart surgery earlier this year. No one knew I didn’t finish the Boise Half Ironman. But they were all cheering for me. And when I crossed the finish line, I almost fell because of my knee, but two volunteers rushed up and caught me. Holding each arm, while I finally let my pent up emotion go in a rush of tears, they slowly walked me towards the water and finisher’s medal. After that, I heard Kermit cheering me from the other side of the fence. I hobbled over, still crying, and he hugged me and said how proud he was of me.

And that’s what will happen when we finish this life. I can picture it now – all our friends and family who have passed away will line the shoot, cheering for us and telling us how much they love us as we pass to the spirit world. And then, once we’ve crossed the finish line, our Father in Heaven will reach out and catch us as we collapse into his loving arms. He’ll tell us He knows what we had to go through, and how hard it was. He’ll tell us how proud He is of us, and how much He loves us. Best. Finisher’s. Medal. Ever.

So, I think it’s still a good idea to have a plan. It’s a good idea to prepare, to stay positive mentally. But I think it’s also essential to accept that there will be something unexpected. And if we’re okay with that, we can roll with the waves better and keep pressing forward. Even if it takes a little longer, includes a detour, or we finish the race bruised and broken. It’s not easy, but yes, it’s worth it.

Now on to Cozumel!! 48 days to go! I know that will hurt. I know something unexpected will happen. I’m planning on it. But I’m also planning on not giving up.