Lessons in running a marathon

I wrote this Thursday of last week, but couldn't decide if I wanted to post it or not... and today I decided I did. More to come later on how I am feeling now. :)

June 9th, 2011:
I feel like running half marathons, full marathons and just running in general has become the new fad. It seems like you aren't exercising and you certainly aren't fit if you aren't running all week long.


Running used to be my staple exercise. I remember running daily during college, especially during the summer. Even after college, running was on the exercise agenda on a regular basis, mixed in with exercise videos and cross training at the gym. Running was never for distance, it was just for time, just for fun, just for exercise, just to get moving. Pace didn't matter, route didn't matter. I just ran because I enjoyed it.


But since I started Cross Fit in December, I haven't missed running. AT ALL. So what in the hell gave me the itch to run a marathon?


I honestly don't know.


I feel like everyone I know and their aunt, uncle and second cousin was on this running bandwagon. And not just that, but the marathon bandwagon, too.


My first taste of running races was a 10k with a girlfriend. I remember at the time thinking, "...6 miles?!" and it felt like a really big deal. Towards the end of that race, my girlfriend turned to me and said, "you know that we're going to have to do something bigger after this, right? Like a half marathon?" I laughed it off thinking it will never happen. That was fall of 2009.


Flash forward to spring of 2010 and we were picking out the race, the half marathon to run that summer. We trained, we wondering why we were doing it, we ran the race in the sticks of Minnesota and joked that we would do it again when we were older, with kids, just to prove we still had it. But at this point it time, I had it with running. I was done running because I HAD to.


October comes around and I'm asked to step in for someone else that can't race. At that point, I hadn't trained, RAN, at all. But, I did it. And I liked it. It was such a rush to realize that my body was capable of doing something like that without following an exact training plan nor a training plan at all.


I don't know where it came from, why it came or why I listened to it, but I decided that my Cross Fit goal for 2011 would be to run a marathon. And I wrote it on the board to solidify it.


Now here I am, 4 days post marathon.


I did it. I ran 26.2 miles. I trained for 16 weeks. I experienced over-training and a funky ankle which I tried to remedy by new shoes, different shoes and a newer pair of my old running shoes.


4 days post marathon and I'm not sore at all. The only remnants of the race are a big blister on my big toe and some pretty rough looking ring finger toe nails that I think might fall off.


I should feel proud, elated, ecstatic, right?! Well I don't. Not anymore. I did on Sunday, but I've had a bit of a black cloud hanging over me since Monday evening. I'm not giving myself the love and kudos that I should for doing something insane. Let's be real, running 26.2 miles IS insane.


My black cloud is time. My original goal was to finish in 4:30-4:45. Since I could run a 2:15 half, why couldn't I work to finish a full in twice that amount of time? A few weeks into training, I over trained and started REALLY stressing myself out about my goal time. So, I took it off. I said my goal was to FINISH a marathon. But, in the back of my mind there was a "sub 5 hour" clause in small print.


Well, as far as I know, running a marathon doesn't always create a perfect storm in your favor. I finished in 5:13-5:17 (I can't figure out which is right) And on Sunday, I reached a point where I didn't care about time. I was struggling, I wanted to cry. I couldn't run any faster than I could speed walk and I finally said screw it. I didn't want my marathon memory to be that of me being upset, crying, feeling defeated and completely frustration. I pulled out my headphones and decided to enjoy myself. Take in everything that was around me. The sighs, the sounds, the energy. I was going to speed walk my ass off, run if I could, and ENJOY myself. I did just that. And finished in 5:17.


Now though... I regret. I regret not pushing myself harder. Making myself go faster. But where would that have gotten me? Just like I'll never know the answer to that, I'll also never know whether or not I would have gotten my sub 5hr time or if I would have enjoyed myself anymore. I also don't know that if I got that sub 5 time that I wouldn't be regretting that I didn't push for 430-445.


I shouldn't let those 18 minutes overshadow my experience though.


I wasn't nearly as nervous as I expected I would be. I was fairly cool, calm and collected. When race started and we inched towards the start line, I got tears in my eyes. I was really doing it. I was really going to run a marathon. Tears of pride.


I love that I got to run the race with one of my best friends. We didn't physically run together, but we both ran the marathon and spent ample time together before and after.


I'll never forget the flood of emotions I felt when I saw my Cross Fit gang holding signs and cheering for me. I was literally in tears as I ran by them. They had signs, and cute little flags. That little act of kindness and their excitement for me really meant the world to me. I have only known these people for 6 months. SIX MONTHS! But they came out and cheered me on like family.


Seeing my boyfriend and sorority sister at multiple points after I hit my 'wall', cheering for me, bringing me whatever I needed. Nudging me along. Keeping my spirits up. More flooding emotions there.


Talking to hand fulls of people as we all fought the last 4 miles together. People that I will most likely never see again. People that I created a bond with and their face, out chat, the memory will always be etched in my mind.