There's Always Next Year

When I ran the marathon last year I learned about will. I realized that, like an ox, I could put my head down and power through any obstacle in my way. I used this energy to meet my goals-- all of them-- and I rearranged my life in one fell swoop-- powering through to each finish line until I had manifested the vision of myself that I wanted.

This year I set even more goals for myself, fully intending to plow forward on that wonderful wave of will that I possess in spades. But fate had a different lesson in mind for me. First I learned, quite alarmingly, that I am breakable. And then I learned that healing is a process that takes time-- although I was quite impatient towards that end. I assumed I could jump back on track, and I powered through a 5 mile run that had me limping half way through. The next week I made the jump to 10 miles, which effectively proved my own foolishness. I couldn't run again for weeks-- the pain in my leg outweighed the notions in my head-- and for the first time ever I realized that I have limitations. I cannot physically run the marathon nor the triathlon and no amount of personal power can change that right now. So I have accepted this reality and acquiesced to my own needs instead of plodding forward to gain my wants.

I have to admit, I liked last year's lesson better. But growth is accomplished through fits and starts-- taking two steps forward, one step back-- and eventually dancing towards the things that are important in life. Because if you can't hold on to a star in your hand, a least you can hold on to another plan.

New Plan

I started training March 1st and by the end of April I had a stress fracture and had to delay training. During that time, I got to feeling really sorry for myself—I was drinking more, indulging in cigarettes here and there, and generally throwing the kind of bullshit fit that I’m prone to throw every now and again. I had pretty much up given up on the triathlon, and my confidence in the marathon was diminishing rapidly.

Then this morning I woke up and I was tired of myself. I looked in the mirror and said, “you’re not going to smoke, you’re going to start eating right again, and by God you are going to do that triathlon and marathon, just like you had planned to do. You are not the girl who comes up with excuses for why she can’t do something—you are the girl who finds solutions so that she can do something.”

And that is exactly what I am doing. I am not letting some injury prevent me from being who I can be—and I sure as hell don’t feel sorry for myself. I can bike. I’m going to bike until my butt goes numb, and then I’m going to bike some more for the next two weeks. Then I’m adding swimming. In a month I can run. And I’ll catch up on the marathon training too. There is no backwards; there is only full speed ahead.

I Love Running

They say you don't know what you've got until it's gone. I would have to agree with them-- today I balled my eyes out. It's been a very long time since that has happened. I realized that it's because I was happy with my relationship, and now I'm super sorry to see it go. Running, I miss you. I need you. Please come back to me.

I'm mad at myself for injuring my knee over a stupid football game. I have come to understand that running was always the most important thing. And now I can't do it. I can't take off and clear my head. I can't settle into a zone where I don't feel my body. I can't perpetuate the happiness that running has brought me.

And maybe it sounds a little melodramatic. Thursday I will know if running is gone forever, or just an elusive mistress that will one day be mine again. In the meantime, I am planning on cultivating a new connection-- swimming. Joint-friendly swimming, I think you and I are going to make great friends.

Training or Paining?

Somebody thought it would be a good idea for us to do the triathlon too... so I bought a really cool bike and did a little tri training on Sunday. I only biked 5 miles because I'm not much of a biker yet, and I'm still getting accustomed to it. After that, I hopped straight onto the running path for a 7 mile run. And holy moly-- it is super weird feeling to run after biking. Considering I can barely sit today after yesterday's little exercise soiree-- I am a little nervous about the full tri.

So we'll see how that goes. I haven't officially registered, and I know I should soon because registration will probably close shortly. I still have my doubts, but I guess there's no turning back now! (Just like there's no moving me from this seat today). ** Until I go for another run tonight.

Running Season 2010!!!

Well we kicked off the running season with the Shamrock Shuffle-- a nice little 8k that shares the same starting and ending point as the Chicago Marathon. I'm not sure why the Chicago Marathon committee believes that a good ending point is a nice long hill, but it was good to experience the uphill portion after a much shorter run. I also appreciate the continuity that the running season will have-- starting and ending in the same place.

Anyway, by now you may have guessed that I have decided to run the Chicago Marathon, and you would be correct in that assumption. Last year's journey to the Maui Marathon was truly a transformative experience, and I'm looking forward to embarking upon a similar journey. I'm sure it will be different in many ways-- for one, I'm not having a landmark birthday, and for two, I'm not going to Maui. But I think the training will be different as well. I know what to expect, what to do versus what not to do. And I'm super-excited about the Chicago Marathon-- it's supposed to be one of the best runs in the country. We'll see how it goes...

23 Miles

I did not know why I was running until I ran 23 miles. Somewhere around mile 20, everything clicked. Incidentally, this was also when some new and interesting hormones kicked in.



The sky got very blue very suddenly. My legs and feet stopped aching and a smile spread across my face as though it were it being pasted on. I was talking, laughing, enjoying the run as though it had just begun. There were no thoughts of pushing through the pain because the pain was gone (it would return in spades later).



I experienced a heightened sense of awareness; I felt what it means to push past the point of reason, past the threshold of my own will power, and into the ether. My body was still moving-- at that point out of habit and mechanics-- my mind had reached another level. I felt so close to the people still chugging along beside me, bonded together by the intimacy of accomplishment-- a moment so personal, yet shared.



That's when I fully realized: Anyone can do anything. I'm running all this way simply because I can. What word has ever held such power as can? I am not certain of the answer to that question, perhaps because I have never believed in cannot.

20 Miler... And A Couple Other Jogs

Two weeks ago I ran 20 miles. At the beginning it was exciting and fun; at the end it was grueling and rewarding. Somewhere in between a man ran into a light post and bled rather profusely from his forehead. A woman documented the run with her cell phone and posted it piecemeal on facebook as she went... until she was taken back to the finish line with an injury. Several people were spotted running in odd attire: a red leather dress, a red tutu, and a red feather boa to name a few. A man that none of us had ever seen before joined our running group somewhere around Navy Pier. To top it all off, a bird shit on my head right before we did the last mile. I believe the Italians think that is a good omen. Mostly it was just messy.

There was an 8 miler the week before that, which went seamlessly, and another after the 20 miler, which we purposely cut short. It was really humid and my foot was still in healing mode. Luckily, it seems to be okay now. I'm prepared for a full recovery run this week and a 23 miler the week after that. In the meantime, I will find out if there is any truth to the "good omen" that I furiously scrubbed from my head.