Just One Marathon

Learning is Not a Spectator Sport

Twelve hours from now, I’ll know what kind of marathon I’m going to run. It’ll be approximately 90 minutes after the start of the race, and by then I’ll be learning if I was right or wrong to try to run this race at the pace I’ve chosen. 

Right now, on the evening before, I’m not sure. I know I’m faster – over short distances. But I’m not certain how my body will respond after 3 or 4 hours of pounding.

Though I’m nervous, I have this inexplicable feeling of confidence about tomorrow’s run. I think it’s going to be great. But I’m afraid that I’m over-confident – or under-experienced. Still, there’s only way to find out. Give it a try.

Ready

“…the taper may seem to bring on injuries. You may develop all kinds of minor aches and pains, or feel sluggish and irritable as the race approaches. You train less but worry more.”

-- The Competitive Runner’s Handbook, Bob Glover and Shelly-lynn Florence Glover

 

Phantom aches? Irritability? Worry? Check, check and check.

 

This week, I’ve had a galloping case of the “taper crazies”. I’ve got a chest cold, my hip feels weird, and I’m beset by doubts.

 

The only time I feel good is when I’m running. In fact, when I’m running, I feel fantastic. And fast? You have no idea. During my speed training on Friday night, I logged my speediest 800s to date – and it didn’t even feel hard. This morning, I ran just over 13K at a 5:30/K pace, again without too much effort.

 

Unfortunately, since I’m tapering – significantly reducing my mileage to give my body time to rest and heal before the big day – I’m not running much. And because I’ve been extremely busy with work and kids’ fall activities, I haven’t been cross-training either. That makes me nervous. So does the fact that, due to a bout of low blood iron, I only ran one 20-miler during this training schedule. It doesn’t feel like I’ve logged enough long-run Ks.

 

However, there’s not a lot I can do about it now. Whatever work I’ve done in the past 20 weeks or so will have to be enough. And this morning, as I finished my last long run, I heard a calm, confident voice inside myself saying, “I’m ready”. (At least, I hope it was my inside voice. During this challenging training period, I’ve developed the “endearingly eccentric” habit of talking out loud to myself at critical moments.)

 

Inside or outside, I was glad to hear that voice. So far, it has never been wrong.

Support System

Less than 24 hours until I start that most solitary of activities, the marathon run, and I find myself thinking about … other people.  

 

If I didn’t know before I began this whole adventure how incredibly generous, supportive and kind my friends and family are, I do now. They have all gone the distance in their encouragement over the past few months and years. They have driven hundreds of kilometres to cheer me on, knit breathable cotton running gloves, sent flowers, given advice and pep talks, and most of all listened to endless talk about training, blisters, small victories and minor disappointments.  

 

And the best thing of all is that these folks get it. They understand why achieving this seemingly pointless and not very unique athletic goal is important and exciting to me. They have seen me evolve from a reluctant runner who can barely make it up the stairs without stopping to a slightly-less reluctant runner who considers 23 kilometres a “short run” (though I can still barely make it up the stairs without stopping).

 

So, to my husband, sons, parents, sisters, friends, extended family and running buddies (virtual and real world) – thank you for helping me get to the start line. I couldn’t have done it without you. See you at the finish!