The Marathon
The runner's marathon stands out as a sort of pinnacle of achievement. Tell someone "I'm a runner" and they want to know which marathon you ran.
I say "Well I didn't run a marathon... yet" apologetically, and if they still have an ounce of respect left for my lack of meaningful achievement, I explain my theory that a marathon is 26.2 miles long and running that far isn't actually good for you, that your body runs out of energy and that injuries become frequent when you try to push the human body so far.
Well, to gain SOME self-respect, after I did the City of Lakes 25k (15.4 miles) in September, a MERE WARMUP for the Twin Cities Marathon, I counted 5 miles of pre/post running and walking getting me to 20 miles for the morning. Then I walked 6.2 miles that evening to get to the esteemed 26.2 mile nirvana. Now I "could have" run the final 6.2 miles, but my legs were still weakened, but I felt strong walking. Granted, walking 90 minutes is a little "boring", I felt good about it. So my "unofficial" marathon time stands at about 14 hours.
A week ago, on a nice cool night, I tried my longest practice run yet. I took my 3-mile loop, repeated 6 times for 18 times, stopping for 2-3 minutes per loop to measure my heart and drink some water. I also took one of those 100cal "energy gels" after 9 miles. My heart stayed around 21-23 beats/10-seconds, or 126-138 beats/minute, at least finishing each interval. That's in the "comfortable" range, meaning I didn't have to breath hard at all.
My experience was that I felt strong at 6-miles, slightly fatigued at 9 miles, noticably fatigued at 12 miles, and strongly fatigued at 15 miles. Even with this progression I maintained near a 7:30 pace for every interval and did my fastest loop on the last one at 15 miles, knowing I didn't have to hold back any longer.
After that I tried one more loop to get to 21 miles, and my legs were seriously hurt. I mean after starting running again I had to stop after 100 yards and stretch my legs and massage them to force myself to keep going. After recovering a stride, I ended around a 9:40 mile pace, and could have kept going around there, but my legs were not happy, so I was content to say my test was over. My primary thought was that I was very hungry. Maybe next time I'll cut my pace back more and bring more food!
Well, the 21-mile test was enough for me to KNOW I could finish a marathon. Maybe not with my 7:30 pace, maybe a 9:00 pace, or maybe a 15:00 walking pace. I KNOW I can finish, but I ask why?!
As I started with, the culture cooked up this idea that running beyond a SANE limit was a "growth experience", and apparently even a "rite of passage", so if you finish a marathon, you've graduated to be with the "real athletes" of the world, like a warrior who killed his first enemy - it was scary - it was life-threatening - and somehow you made it - now you're a man. (Or a woman I guess!)
I can get caught up in HYPE as well as anyone. It just seems strange to me that people would want to run a RACE of a distance that is painful enough to not PRACTICE first!
Okay, sure, I'm envious of the trailblazers out there - finishing marathons without walking too much. Oops, I show my ego. I don't want to have to WALK the finish of a marathon. If I did a marathon, I want to be able to do one under 3 hours 30 minutes, or close to that, which means no walking for ME, which means when I feel discomfort, when my feet hurt, when my muscles complain, I have to play WHIPMASTER and say "POOR BABY", and keep going - for that dammed ego that judges worth not only finishing but finishing WELL.
Well, the wiser part of me says NO - I ought not to set goals that are bad for my health - that my body tells me about pain for a reason - so I can respond to it and protect myself.
It is still curious, my coworker ran a 3:14 marathon in his 20's and say I should do one. My CEO ran one ten years ago too, maybe around 3:45, and his wife says I should run one too if I'm ready, like from my 25k results suggest.
It's curious since I know it's all pretty boring to tell people how much I think about running, or the latest little strain or pain, or whatever. But I'm lead to believe there is something of value in running a marathon, like I'll then be able to walk with my head turned high.
I really do like testing myself, and gain a lot of confidence to see how the rhythm of running holds my attention and how the miles can stream by now, at least to a point. SURE, challenges are good AND we're in well-explored territory - with perhaps millions of people who have done it, and who knows how many under my esteemed 3:30 goal.
Well, maybe it's just my personality. I have enough experience to judge a marathon's difficulty, and mostly it's just about how long it takes, and a little luck and good sense to avoid injury.
It's not even that anyone really cares. That's the funniest thing. I just like attention, so if someone suggests I run a marathon, I wonder if I could and the costs, and meanwhile the other person is thinking about his laundry or something and was just trying to make conversation.
I keep telling myself, maybe, maybe not, back and forth, but my better sense always says there's no pot of gold at the end of that rainbow.
If there's gold in running, it's in those moments that time is forgotten, where laundry doesn't exist, where breathing is comfortable, and legs strong, and the clear horizon beckoning me to come closer. It's the magic times when I'm holding something back, when I'm listening to the limits my body offer, and feel grateful for the moment.
Maybe running a marathon really does have gold, I just can't imagine it's greater just for being farther.
I say "Well I didn't run a marathon... yet" apologetically, and if they still have an ounce of respect left for my lack of meaningful achievement, I explain my theory that a marathon is 26.2 miles long and running that far isn't actually good for you, that your body runs out of energy and that injuries become frequent when you try to push the human body so far.
Well, to gain SOME self-respect, after I did the City of Lakes 25k (15.4 miles) in September, a MERE WARMUP for the Twin Cities Marathon, I counted 5 miles of pre/post running and walking getting me to 20 miles for the morning. Then I walked 6.2 miles that evening to get to the esteemed 26.2 mile nirvana. Now I "could have" run the final 6.2 miles, but my legs were still weakened, but I felt strong walking. Granted, walking 90 minutes is a little "boring", I felt good about it. So my "unofficial" marathon time stands at about 14 hours.
A week ago, on a nice cool night, I tried my longest practice run yet. I took my 3-mile loop, repeated 6 times for 18 times, stopping for 2-3 minutes per loop to measure my heart and drink some water. I also took one of those 100cal "energy gels" after 9 miles. My heart stayed around 21-23 beats/10-seconds, or 126-138 beats/minute, at least finishing each interval. That's in the "comfortable" range, meaning I didn't have to breath hard at all.
My experience was that I felt strong at 6-miles, slightly fatigued at 9 miles, noticably fatigued at 12 miles, and strongly fatigued at 15 miles. Even with this progression I maintained near a 7:30 pace for every interval and did my fastest loop on the last one at 15 miles, knowing I didn't have to hold back any longer.
After that I tried one more loop to get to 21 miles, and my legs were seriously hurt. I mean after starting running again I had to stop after 100 yards and stretch my legs and massage them to force myself to keep going. After recovering a stride, I ended around a 9:40 mile pace, and could have kept going around there, but my legs were not happy, so I was content to say my test was over. My primary thought was that I was very hungry. Maybe next time I'll cut my pace back more and bring more food!
Well, the 21-mile test was enough for me to KNOW I could finish a marathon. Maybe not with my 7:30 pace, maybe a 9:00 pace, or maybe a 15:00 walking pace. I KNOW I can finish, but I ask why?!
As I started with, the culture cooked up this idea that running beyond a SANE limit was a "growth experience", and apparently even a "rite of passage", so if you finish a marathon, you've graduated to be with the "real athletes" of the world, like a warrior who killed his first enemy - it was scary - it was life-threatening - and somehow you made it - now you're a man. (Or a woman I guess!)
I can get caught up in HYPE as well as anyone. It just seems strange to me that people would want to run a RACE of a distance that is painful enough to not PRACTICE first!
Okay, sure, I'm envious of the trailblazers out there - finishing marathons without walking too much. Oops, I show my ego. I don't want to have to WALK the finish of a marathon. If I did a marathon, I want to be able to do one under 3 hours 30 minutes, or close to that, which means no walking for ME, which means when I feel discomfort, when my feet hurt, when my muscles complain, I have to play WHIPMASTER and say "POOR BABY", and keep going - for that dammed ego that judges worth not only finishing but finishing WELL.
Well, the wiser part of me says NO - I ought not to set goals that are bad for my health - that my body tells me about pain for a reason - so I can respond to it and protect myself.
It is still curious, my coworker ran a 3:14 marathon in his 20's and say I should do one. My CEO ran one ten years ago too, maybe around 3:45, and his wife says I should run one too if I'm ready, like from my 25k results suggest.
It's curious since I know it's all pretty boring to tell people how much I think about running, or the latest little strain or pain, or whatever. But I'm lead to believe there is something of value in running a marathon, like I'll then be able to walk with my head turned high.
I really do like testing myself, and gain a lot of confidence to see how the rhythm of running holds my attention and how the miles can stream by now, at least to a point. SURE, challenges are good AND we're in well-explored territory - with perhaps millions of people who have done it, and who knows how many under my esteemed 3:30 goal.
Well, maybe it's just my personality. I have enough experience to judge a marathon's difficulty, and mostly it's just about how long it takes, and a little luck and good sense to avoid injury.
It's not even that anyone really cares. That's the funniest thing. I just like attention, so if someone suggests I run a marathon, I wonder if I could and the costs, and meanwhile the other person is thinking about his laundry or something and was just trying to make conversation.
I keep telling myself, maybe, maybe not, back and forth, but my better sense always says there's no pot of gold at the end of that rainbow.
If there's gold in running, it's in those moments that time is forgotten, where laundry doesn't exist, where breathing is comfortable, and legs strong, and the clear horizon beckoning me to come closer. It's the magic times when I'm holding something back, when I'm listening to the limits my body offer, and feel grateful for the moment.
Maybe running a marathon really does have gold, I just can't imagine it's greater just for being farther.
posted by Ares Olympus at 7:54 PM
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