When did I lose my mind? (Or: how I decided to run a marathon)
If the premise of this blog is that it might just be insane to run a marathon, then there must be at least one post where I make an attempt to rationally explain this insanity. This is that post, and it is a little lengthy.
First: I'm not exactly a couch potato.
I always liked to run. Running was part of baseball, I sport I've loved since I was about 4 years old and my Dad took me to baseball games and taught me how to keep score. I think there was some sort of fitness test in sixth grade and I remember "training" for it by running laps around the school playground with my friend, Trevor. I also ran Cross Country in high school (which deserves its own post). I gave up Cross Country due to an injury (and the time commitment) in my freshman year at college.
Since then, I ran on and off, but not usually more than twice a week.
In January, 2004, I started running four days a week to try to improve my fitness. I wasn't training for anything, and sometimes my run would consist of going up the nearby hill, doing a loop, pooping out, and coming back home. During this time, and anytime previous to this, I thought the concept of going 26.2 miles was absolutely batty. Nutso. Beyond my capability. I mean, I wasn't running particularly slowly when I ran, and I'd get tired, no matter what distance I ran, but if you run 4 miles and get tired, doesn't it seem that the idea of doing that 6 more times kind of blow your mind?
September, 2004, my brother called me and suggested we run the Big Sur Marathon together that spring. He had run several marathons before, raising money to gain entry to the Boston Marathon. While I had proved myself faster than he in high school, he had proven he could cover 26.2 miles many years ago. For various reasons, I declined, but I had begun to look in to how to train for a marathon, and it didn't seem impossible. There were training schedules for beginners that involved as few as four days a week (and I was already running four days a week). And with enough time and preparation, it could be done. But why?
Between November of 2004 when I ran my first 10k at a 6:53 pace, and May of 2005 when I ran the Bay to Breakers at a 7:45 pace, I started to take my running a bit more seriously. It was something about knowing I could run faster than most of the thousands of people who entered those races, and realizing that I was putting in more miles and getting in better shape as I continued running. I had taken to running in the park on some weekends, and started stretching those runs out to 7 or 8 miles. My wife started encouraging me to find other people to run with.
Other people to run with were hard to find, in my mind. I mostly ran around my home, which isn't a runner's haven like the Marina or the Embaradero or the Park. I didn't think I had time to drive across town to meet up with a group, especially during the week. One big break came when a co-worker of my wife, Amy, was willing to meet me on a weekend morning to go for a long run. She drove a hard bargain: early in the morning (8am!). But this was a success. My longest runs jumped from 8 to 10, and then to 11 or 12. I ran several Saturdays with Amy, and then took to repeating those routes once a week.
In November of 2005, I was at a party when in conversation with a gal named Tamara, she reminded me of the K-Stars. I say "reminded me" because I had looked for running groups at least a year previously but dimissed the idea of driving half-way across town to start running at 9am on a Saturday, but having now done that to run with Amy, it seemed somehow okay. And coincidentally, it was the K-Star map that I had used to understand what routes to take on my initial park runs long before.
I started running with them a couple of weeks later. I started with whomever was doing the longer runs, and generally kept pace with the faster guys there. In talking with the guys, particularly Dave H., I felt confidence build that I could do a lot more than what I was already doing. In short, I felt capable of doing what I once felt was impossible and insane.
Another key contribution came from Thomas, in that I knew his story of establishing a goal for himself to run a marathon in under 3:30 in less than two years, starting from being a non-runner. He reached that goal in much less than two years, and has since far surpassed it. Talking to Thomas about it in some way inspired me (though his revelation that he ran 10 times a week and put in more than 90 miles did nothing to remove thoughts of insanity from my head).
At some point, I just felt that since I was capable, I would.
I never thought that was a particularly rational reason, so I may stand by initial assertion that I'm nuts for doing this, though I can't pinpoint when I lost my mind.
Wrap-up: to close the loop from whence it came, I asked my brother to run my first marathon with me. We looked at several considerations and ultimately chose the San Francisco Marathon (timing and travel being the main concerns).As some of you know, I started blogging about it when my 18 week training program began.
First: I'm not exactly a couch potato.
I always liked to run. Running was part of baseball, I sport I've loved since I was about 4 years old and my Dad took me to baseball games and taught me how to keep score. I think there was some sort of fitness test in sixth grade and I remember "training" for it by running laps around the school playground with my friend, Trevor. I also ran Cross Country in high school (which deserves its own post). I gave up Cross Country due to an injury (and the time commitment) in my freshman year at college.
Since then, I ran on and off, but not usually more than twice a week.
In January, 2004, I started running four days a week to try to improve my fitness. I wasn't training for anything, and sometimes my run would consist of going up the nearby hill, doing a loop, pooping out, and coming back home. During this time, and anytime previous to this, I thought the concept of going 26.2 miles was absolutely batty. Nutso. Beyond my capability. I mean, I wasn't running particularly slowly when I ran, and I'd get tired, no matter what distance I ran, but if you run 4 miles and get tired, doesn't it seem that the idea of doing that 6 more times kind of blow your mind?
September, 2004, my brother called me and suggested we run the Big Sur Marathon together that spring. He had run several marathons before, raising money to gain entry to the Boston Marathon. While I had proved myself faster than he in high school, he had proven he could cover 26.2 miles many years ago. For various reasons, I declined, but I had begun to look in to how to train for a marathon, and it didn't seem impossible. There were training schedules for beginners that involved as few as four days a week (and I was already running four days a week). And with enough time and preparation, it could be done. But why?
Between November of 2004 when I ran my first 10k at a 6:53 pace, and May of 2005 when I ran the Bay to Breakers at a 7:45 pace, I started to take my running a bit more seriously. It was something about knowing I could run faster than most of the thousands of people who entered those races, and realizing that I was putting in more miles and getting in better shape as I continued running. I had taken to running in the park on some weekends, and started stretching those runs out to 7 or 8 miles. My wife started encouraging me to find other people to run with.
Other people to run with were hard to find, in my mind. I mostly ran around my home, which isn't a runner's haven like the Marina or the Embaradero or the Park. I didn't think I had time to drive across town to meet up with a group, especially during the week. One big break came when a co-worker of my wife, Amy, was willing to meet me on a weekend morning to go for a long run. She drove a hard bargain: early in the morning (8am!). But this was a success. My longest runs jumped from 8 to 10, and then to 11 or 12. I ran several Saturdays with Amy, and then took to repeating those routes once a week.
In November of 2005, I was at a party when in conversation with a gal named Tamara, she reminded me of the K-Stars. I say "reminded me" because I had looked for running groups at least a year previously but dimissed the idea of driving half-way across town to start running at 9am on a Saturday, but having now done that to run with Amy, it seemed somehow okay. And coincidentally, it was the K-Star map that I had used to understand what routes to take on my initial park runs long before.
I started running with them a couple of weeks later. I started with whomever was doing the longer runs, and generally kept pace with the faster guys there. In talking with the guys, particularly Dave H., I felt confidence build that I could do a lot more than what I was already doing. In short, I felt capable of doing what I once felt was impossible and insane.
Another key contribution came from Thomas, in that I knew his story of establishing a goal for himself to run a marathon in under 3:30 in less than two years, starting from being a non-runner. He reached that goal in much less than two years, and has since far surpassed it. Talking to Thomas about it in some way inspired me (though his revelation that he ran 10 times a week and put in more than 90 miles did nothing to remove thoughts of insanity from my head).
At some point, I just felt that since I was capable, I would.
Why climb Everest?
"Because it is there."
I never thought that was a particularly rational reason, so I may stand by initial assertion that I'm nuts for doing this, though I can't pinpoint when I lost my mind.
Wrap-up: to close the loop from whence it came, I asked my brother to run my first marathon with me. We looked at several considerations and ultimately chose the San Francisco Marathon (timing and travel being the main concerns).As some of you know, I started blogging about it when my 18 week training program began.
posted by Brent at
2:46 PM
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