Twenty Six Point Two

Twenty Six Point two definitely seems longer when spelled out.  It’s less daunting to write it numerically, 26.2.  Either way you put it down, that’s how many miles I’m about to run. 

Shortly after finishing third in my age group at our local yearly half marathon, I decided it was time to push myself a little more. On a runner’s high about finishing a good race, feeling confident in my accomplishment, and with encouragement from my wife, I decided to go all in.  This would be the year that I would complete a full marathon.  I had an idea of what it would take, but never realized the full scope of the commitment until after I started looking at running plans.  In my haste, I paid for the race before I saw what the plan looked like.  Had I known, I might have chosen a different route.  Something a tad easier perhaps - like a 400 meter dash?

For those who have never thought about being crazy enough to attempt to run such a long distance, let me be very clear.  The training is pretty much all you have time for in the months leading up to the marathon.  It consumes your diet, your mornings, and your evenings.  In the short 3 months that I started training for the full marathon after doing the half in mid-march I’ve logged well over 400 miles of running.  I’ve been chased by dogs, honked at by cars, attacked by mosquitoes, waved at by other runners, and propositioned by “ladies of the night” that were out for their morning stroll.  I’ve run on roads, trails, dirt tracks, treadmills, in parks, on streets, and (on my longest training run) between my home town and my current town even getting lost a time or two along the way. Through rain, sleet, humidity, blazing sun, ice and snow I’ve trained for my run while traveling through Texas, Louisiana, New Mexico, Oklahoma, and Utah.  Along the way every member of our family has joined me at one time or another, including the family dog.  It’s been tough, but fun, and has proved to be an opportunity to find out more about myself in the process.  While I have seldom enjoyed it during the run (I rarely get a runners high but tend to have what I call the Runners swears), I have always been able to look back and appreciate the journey.    I have wondered if I would get a life lesson from all of this.  I thought it would come from the marathon itself.  Instead, as I finished another training run tonight, I had a different epiphany.   I wondered if I’ve taken enough time to really enjoy the training.  I’m not sure if I fully appreciate how much I’ve had to push myself to be in shape enough to run the full 26.2 miles. It seems rather interesting that I would have to put in over 400 miles in such a short time to have enough muscle, strength, and stamina to last the entire race.  That’s just the physical aspect, not to mention the mental endurance that will be needed! Still, even with all the training and preparation, there are few guarantees.  Who knows how the actual race will go this Saturday.  Even with all of that prep, there could still be some pitfalls and trials along the way. 

During those thoughts, as if on cue from some ever present corner of my brain, images of my three beautiful children and my amazing spouse materialized in my mind’s eye.

I started wondering if I have been a good enough trainer for our children. I wondered if I’m a good enough co-trainer with my wife.  After all, are we not trying to help them learn the skills that they will need once they hit their own marathons? Are we giving them the right nutrients to help them persevere through the long and treacherous miles that lay ahead? Am I finding joy in the opportunity to teach them what I’ve learned? Am I slowing down to “run” at my wife’s pace, or speeding up to catch up to her? Are we keeping pace with each other?  All of these thoughts came in a flurry as I pounded through the miles tonight.  I wondered what it will be like when I walk with them to the starting line and watch nervously as they take off on their own.  I made a vow to cheer them on unconditionally once they get there.  I realized that this time to train is short and I better become a better coach or else they may not be fully prepared when race day comes.  I need to learn to work together better with my wife; after all we are coaching equally for the same team.  I have a hope that when they set off on their own and run toward their futures that they will fully understand that their race will not be like any other.  They will have moments of great triumph, followed by moments of pain and uncertainty.  Sometimes they will have to slow down and walk, or sit, because that happens.  That it’s ok to fail, as long as you get back up and go again.  That if they come in first, or last, or in between my love for them will not change. 

If they stumble and fall, it’s ok.  It’s just a scratch or a bruise.  Just keep moving. Keep running up the hill, on the other side it’s a relieving descent for a few miles.

It may be silly to take so much from such an unimportant thing.  Yet I find that as I look back, the training went by way too fast.  All of the miles are done and the marathon is before me. I feel prepared, whatever that means.  My legs are stronger than ever, but what made them that way is now just a memory. 

So, here’s to the training, and the trainers who are struggling to get it right. The relief will come when we are all standing at the finish line together in an embrace and jubilee that comes from leaving it all on the road.

Deep breaths - we’ve got this.

-TJ