Running has played a huge part in my life. Since I was in seventh grade, it has taken the role of my major hobby, and has taken varying levels of meaning for me. Without getting into previous meanings it has been for me, I'll focus on the recent transformations of the significance of running for me. This summer, I came to the realization that as I grow older, it will be harder to find time to really train. So, to take advantage of the free time I have now, I began training for a marathon. I've known that I could run a marathon for a while now, I just wanted to do it right, and haven't had the time to train for it.
So for the past few months I've been running quite a bit; running twice a day, stretching, yoga, tending minor injuries became important to me for the first time since I was a freshman in college. All of this gave me the opportunity to think quite a bit. I put a lot of thought into why I run, and came up with several answers. I run because without it I feel almost sticky inside, just uncomfortable in my own skin really; I run because it's a great way to get me active at the beginning of a day; I think on a deeper level, running gives me a sense of power and control in a world that seems to often lack those elements. I don't have to depend on anyone else's opinion, no input from anyone, a concrete distance and an indisputable time.
That's been my favorite justification for running for a while, but that little theory was tested in my marathon. It was an emotional event for me, to say the least. 2 hours 50 minutes to see every bit of myself unaltered, unobstructed by false premonitions, hopes, or faults...just me. The course was a 10K loop that we did 4 times (marathons are so long!) in downtown Moscow, passing by the Kremlin, many temples, Gorky Park, and lots of historic architecture.
It had been raining for a few days, and today was no exception, the course was wet, and cold. The first 10K went great, I found who I thought was a marathoner and we paced each other well, coming in around 34 minutes (a bit faster than I had planned, but I felt strong). My pacer buddy turned off to the finish line of the 10K, and I felt the first pangs of my race, I felt so betrayed, I thought we were in this together. I slowed down a bit on purpose to try to pace myself a bit better, and finished the second 10K strong in 1.15 (just a bit slower than my best half marathon time).
The only problems I noticed at this point are that I was feeling quite cold, and my toes hurt. Also, the only thing the course offered as far as electrolytes was black bread dipped in salt and water. I had avoided the weird bread and water this far, but realized the race was taking a toll on me. Everyone around me was being handed super energy drinks by friends/family, and it became clear to me that I really should have put more thought into that aspect. Halfway through the third 10K, I grabbed some salty bread and choked it down, it went down dry and funny, but the salt tasted incredible (I realized here that my body needed salts to finish this race). It was too late though, I had waited to take in electrolytes, and my body started acting odd. My form disappeared, and I started swaying a bit as I ran. Needless to say, my running took a heavy toll. With 5K to go, I stopped for another piece of bread and water, and could barely control my hands to get the bread to my mouth. This was a new feeling for me, I had strength left in my body, but not enough energy to use it. This last 5K was excruciatingly slow, and at times I doubted whether I could make it. This is where I saw myself clearest. This is when time stopped mattering, because I knew it wasn't going to be great. It became a race of 'can I do this?' Well, it turns out that taking it slowly enough, I could do it. My second half turned out being 1.35, a time that would have been embarrassing to me before I ran this race.
Crossing the finish line, several people came up to me and told me my lips were blue, I guess I looked pretty terrible because someone gave me a blanket. I completely devoured the blini (Russian crepes) and buckwheat (an odd Russian dish that I usually don't like so much) that they gave us. Eventually I found myself huddled under a bridge out of the rain, and I realized my feet were in extreme pain. I took off my shoes to find that my socks were soaked in blood. I guess both large toenails decided they didn't like what I was doing to them, and will soon no longer be members of my body. I didn't need them anyway. Needless to say, it was great to get home eventually.
I learned a lot about myself during this marathon, and my views on running will never be the same. I'd be interested to find out why other runners out there run, and I'd love to hear about your race experiences.
Bryce! I was thinking about you yesterday while I did an 18-mile run in preparation for our marathon that's in three weeks. I wish I had known you were running this week so I could have sent you a marathon survival package filled with delicious American electrolyte-packed foods. And I would have prayed for you. Marathons are brutal. Your story is amazing and sounds like Ryan's first marathon (the blue lips, anyway). I am not the same type of runner that you are. I do long runs because I'm not a super athlete, but this is something that I can be proud of no matter what the time. It's the type of race that just finishing it makes you a winner. Because it's so personal. Yesterday I had a tough run and I had to really push myself the last five to six miles. I thought about why I run, too. For me it's a hobby, plus it makes me feel like I'm more than just a mom. It's something that's hard and a challenge, and that makes me feel like I'm doing something that not everybody can do, and that makes me feel good about myself. Moms need stuff like that. It's interesting that we have similar motivations, but so different as well. Either way, we're both winners. You, in a much more literal sense, are actually a winner, since you had such an incredible time. I know you were disappointed, but dang. You are one fast sucker. Congratulations, man. You really are incredible.
ReplyDeleteBryce, you are amazing! I realize that you could have done better, but 2:50 is really an excellent time. Especially for your first marathon. Wendy's right, you went through almost the same thing I did on my first marathon. I ran 6 minute miles for the first half because I felt strong and there was some downhill. I also didn't take much water. Somewhere around mile 15 I started feeling really bad. It was a strange kind of bad that I'd never felt before. My body wasn't reacting to the commands my brain was sending. I wobbled, I hobbled, I eventually had to slow down until I wasn't even running anymore. This all happened by mile 17. I stopped at the aid station and splashed a cup of liquid in my face. It turned out it was electrolyte water without dye. Of course my eyes were already irritated with salt from sweat, but this hurt even more. So I was blind and crippled. I tried to start running again, only to find that my body just wouldn't respond. The edges of my vision started to go dark. I forced my legs to move, and continued to walk. Each mile seemed longer than the first 15. Eventually I willed my legs to move in a sort of teetering shamble. I passed a policeman and considered telling him to take me to the hospital. My pride eventually won and by the last two miles to go I was able to jog along again. I don't really remember much after that for a while, just fleeting images of the course, the park at the finish, and somebody ushering me through the finish line tunnel. I found a drink and some shade. Eventually Liz's face appeared in the fog and told me that I looked bad. Once I had collected myself a little and found some food I started to think back on what went wrong. I figured out that I had only gotten 4 hours of sleep the night before. I hadn't had enough to drink before the race, or nearly anything during the first half. I also ran way too fast for my maturity level. I finished in 3:30.
ReplyDeleteSo, I feel your pain. Still. However, I have to say that my next marathon (2 months later) went very well. I was much more careful about getting plenty of sleep, drinking and eating early, and pacing myself. On a much tougher course I ended up running just under 2:59. During the uphill on the 24th mile I promised myself that I would never do something so stupid again. I've mostly kept my promise, at least I haven't run any other marathons. In fact, I tried to run one in Toulouse and the fates remembered my oath and caused me to sprain my ankle just two weeks prior (and the weekend before we met mom and David in London, curse you fates!). So I've learned my lesson and now I do my best to fend off the lure of running another.
You should ask Wendy about her Tough Mudder. Now that was glorious.
Bryce, I may not run, but being married to your brother makes me appreciate how amazing a 2:50 time is. Just think what you could do on the next one now that you learned some lessons (unless the lesson is to never run a marathon again). May your recovery be quick!
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