Not every single training session goes to plan. Sometimes it goes horribly awry. At a certain point we have to accept it. I’ve delayed this hoddle for more than a month. Now it’s time to write it.
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The last time I wrote about running I was training for the Avenue of the Giants Marathon. I had just endured a 14-mile run and I felt something was wrong. I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time.
A few weeks passed. I did a few more runs. Then one day I couldn’t run. The pain was too loud for me to ignore. I had to stop. I took a few days off, thinking this simple hamstring problem would resolve itself in a couple days.
It didn’t resolve itself. I couldn’t run. Every step hurt. So I visited the doctor.
It’s a hamstring strain, he said. He couldn’t tell me the timetable but felt confident I could run the May marathon. I was less optimistic.
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My fears were well-placed.
I missed roughly five weeks of my marathon training. Everything’s gone to shit. I kept looking for signs that maybe I could do the marathon but I knew it wasn’t possible. Not when I’m gunning for a fresh personal best.
So I found myself back in physical therapy. And that’s what I’ve been doing every week since then.
I started running two or three miles, then spending 30-45 minutes on the exercise bike at my apartment gymnasium. It’s not substitute for running though.
What I missed most of all, though, was being outside. What a cruel fate it was to endure the doldrums of winter only to not reap the rewards of spring.
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I was determined to not let this sideline me for too long. I ran, I stretched, did my exercises, cut back on the drinking and excess food and got to work.
My average heart rate dropped, as did my heart rate when running. I ramped up the miles again. First 6 miles, then 8, then 12 and, this weekend, 14 miles.
It’s odd how much stronger I felt during my most recent 14-mile run than I did back in February. Was it the weather? I’m not sure.
The May marathon is all but gone. There’s no hope there. But maybe one during the autumn. And I know I’ve got an extraordinary base to build on if I decide to do the Marine Corps again. A 1:41.00 14-mile run should translate to a marathon of roughly 3:15. Not shabby.
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What I enjoy the most, though, now that I am running again is the weather. About being outside. About running on the C&O Canal, waving to other runners, seeing wide-eyed tourists, the Tidal Basin, the sun shining brightly above the Washington Monument.
I wave to the ducks, the crows, the beavers, the dogs and the other runners I come across during my run. It makes it all worth it to me.
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How many times have I written about the insecurities and anxieties we fight during our runs? I must’ve lost count by now.
I’ve learned that, in running, it’s often not about the race. Marathons are a one-time event, the culmination of months of hard work and sacrifice. Of setting aside every doubt in your mind. Of running through it.
I don’t think most people realise how taxing it is to train. Of course the physicality stretches beyond our imaginations. But the mental and emotional toll it takes also goes far beyond how much we think we believe we can endure.
Sometimes the most courageous thing you can do is to run with them, and carry them, with you. There wasn’t a moment during my Sunday run when I forgot about the marathon I will not be running next month.
Maybe this will make be a better runner. I hope it will. And I hope I look back on this in the autumn when I set a new personal best.
And whilst it is heartbreaking to have a “Did Not Start” on my resume, at least I have the ducks.
Fitzie’s track of the day: Take On Me, by a-ha
And now for your links:
The Athletic ($$): “Tottenham captain Molly Bartrip says lack of energy in games was ‘reality check’ in dealing with anorexia”
Alasdair Gold: “Leeds United set stance on Manor Solomon transfer amid growing interest in Tottenham winger”