With fall marathon season rapidly approaching, I thought I would try and capture why the 26.2 mile-distance keeps me coming back time after time despite the daunting undertaking. Simply put, committing to a marathon is committing to better oneself physically, mentally, and even spiritually. Perhaps the only thing harder for me than running a marathon is completing the tall task of writing about all that the lengthy distance means to me. I’ve got four in my “racing bank” and couldn’t be more thrilled to add a fifth marathon to my memory bank this October with the 2023 Marine Corps Marathon.
An experience like no other
Race day is one of the few times I truly feel “alive” in life. The morning is filled with so much uncertainty, so much anticipation, so much promise, so much — excuse me, I have to say hi to my “friend” Porta-John. Ok, where was I? Yes, there’s so much that can go wrong during those 26.2 miles (GI distress included), but there’s also the potential for greatness, regardless of our performance.
We’re running with hundreds or thousands of other determined people who committed to an absolutely insane feat of stupidity — er, strength. Yes, we’re running for ourselves, but what would a marathon be without other runners or spectators? It’d be yet another ordinary weekend long run in the abusive summer humidity. You had enough of those during your training. You remember, they’re what made you almost stop your training altogether. Ah, good times. Anyway, you don’t need to register for those; they happen every training week.
As soon as the starting pistol’s shot is heard round the racing corral, there’s no greater rush of adrenaline. It fills me with equal parts anxiety and excitement. But, the irony is, I have nothing to prove on race day. I’ve already proven to myself I have the dedication, will, and tenacity to work towards achieving a momentous goal day in and day out during months of intense training. What more is there to prove beyond simply showing up on race day?
That’s why I gladly accept all my past failures, regrets, and shortcomings with open arms swinging at my side. Nothing can break my stride, because, when I’m running a marathon, I’m untouchable. I’m invincible, for a few hours, at least.
I may have a throbbing pain in my head (and legs) from making contact with “the dreaded wall” head-first at mile 20, and I may be huffing, and I may be puffing, and I may be blowing my race down, but, look at me: I’m running like a wolf on the race course! I mean, I was at some point during the race, anyway. But, I’m still “doing it” regardless — I’m running another marathon! Sure, I can’t escape the nagging urge to stop and walk the rest of the way, but I’ll keep going anyway, even if I’d probably finish faster walking instead of hobbling to the finish line. Ugh, my friend Porta-John wants to greet me again, but I can’t stop now. No chance I’m tacking on a whole 30 seconds to my finish time.
Success is relative
How do you determine a successful marathon? Is it by your finish time? Simply completing the daunting 26.2 mile distance? The grueling months of training and the stress and pain you put your body through? For me, it’s the day I register for the race, regardless of if I don’t reach the starting line or if I accrue a DNF (Did not finish). Because, when I commit to registering for a marathon, I make a commitment to myself. It’s a very similar commitment I made nearly two decades ago when I committed to running for good.
There comes a point during every marathon I’ve done when I question why I’m out there at the crack of dawn on the cold fall or spring morning running for 180+ minutes straight. It’s when I question whether I ever want to run another marathon again after the agony the race is causing me. I think about all the time I sacrificed over the past several months training — all the early mornings and short nights. It makes me think back to the days when I first started running and all the struggles endured just making it out the door on a consistent basis. Then I reflect on how much I’ve evolved, not just as a runner, but as a person. And that makes me remember why I took up running in the first place: to better myself physically, mentally, and spiritually. Because who says running can’t be a spiritual experience? Those droplets of liquid from my eyelids streaming down my face as I pass the finish line confirm my theory.
No time like the present
Despite all the physical pains and mental anguish caused by the marathon, and even though my aching body is a constant reminder of the struggles endured, something feels missing the day following the marathon. I miss the sense of adventure. I miss persevering to overcome a great challenge. And I find myself impatient to get back out there and run another one, regardless of how race day went. From the outside looking in, it sounds an awful lot like an abusive relationship but that’s inaccurate.
Because a commitment to running a marathon is a commitment to better oneself through dedicated training. When we commit to training, everything else in life falls into place. Everything has order and life has a routine that it sorely needs to keep us focused and on track to accomplish what we want, on and off the roads.
So, what’s stopping you from running your first marathon, or from signing up for your next one? As with any run, the first step is always the hardest, but it only gets easier. Take the first step today and register for a marathon. Or a 5k. Or just go for a run today. Step outside your front door and the rest is all downhill from there — even if your run has considerable elevation gain.
