The Conclusion
After having some time to rest with the ideas that sprung up from my Boston Marathon experience, I feel I have a few thoughts to wrap up.
Boston
The most frequent question I've received in telling people my race story (at least, from non-marathoners) is this: how could I run for 26 miles with pain in my leg?
I answer like so: distance runners learn to distinguish between pains that will stop them and pains that will merely hurt. If I stopped running every time I felt pain in the first few miles of a run, I'd never run more than three miles -- there's always some miscellaneous pain. So I've learned to put such pains at the back of my mind and keep going. My left leg pain on race day was just another one of those early pains that I hoped would go away. It didn't, but it wasn't enough pain to stop me from running.
Meanwhile, I saw a sports-medecine doc who gave an inital diagnosis of a strained anterior tibula, ordered physical therapy and an MRI. I will run again, but I'm going to take it slowly.
To a large degree, the journey I began in 2006 ended with the 2009 Boston Marathon. While at the time I decided to run my first marathon, I had no plans beyond that one, the goal to run Boston grew out of those first months of training and the attempts to learn about how to train for and run a good marathon.
The initial goal was to run one in 3:30, and the very next goal was to drop that to 3:15 to qualify me for Boston. It wasn't a long progression, then. It was two steps.
Along the way, I rediscovered my love of distance running and developed a new love for the strength and power that comes from intense marathon training. When I think about how fast I was going at the end of Boston, or how fast I was going at the end of the Presidio 10 (the day after a 20 miler), I feel deeply powerful.
It feels strange, then, to not have another goal at this time, to feel done. True, a couple of goals seem within reach: a sub 3 hour marathon (which I could realistically achieve at CIM later this year), or qualifying for New York (which would be a stretch-- to break 2:55, but in a year, when I'm 40, would only require 3:10, or a 1:30 half-marathon, both of which I've done this year). But neither of those goals seem as large as Boston did.
And the powerful feeling I described above comes at a price. It takes time and energy that I cannot spend with my family. While not running at all would be too great a loss to my health, both physical and mental, marathon training is a whole other level.
And so, for at least a while, this is it for marathons. The insane first marathon turned into five, and now it is time to return to sanity.
- - -
Along this journey, certain people made all the difference..
The K-Stars: a great running club by virtue of it being a great collection of people. I count many new friendships from amongst the K-Stars, friendships that transcend running. Chris, Ari and Anna: I wouldn't have met you any other way, and I'm glad to count you as friends.
Mike and Thomas provided great inspiration and unofficial coaching, and I appreciate those friendships greatly. Thomas put me on the right track by pointing me to Pfitzinger, and Mike helped motivate me with cautions that I had to work hard to overcome.
Galen turned out to be far more than a running partner. His generosity extended to coming along for race support at CIM, and to a large extent, he chose to run Boston this year at my urging (and hence, we ran only two of my five marathons together, first and last). But running aside, if nothing else lasts from this marathoning binge, Galen's friendship is something I count as worth it all.
No list of people would be complete without my best supporter, my wife. Besides her schlepping around town while 6 months pregnant to cheer me at my first marathon, she continued to be understanding as I went on to run four more, often taking care of our children while I'd be off running countless miles each weekend. My trip to Boston put me away from her and our kids for five days, and I know how hard it is to manage the kids alone for one day, let alone five. She has my everlasting love.
- - -
With those thoughts now articulated, I feel this blog is nearly complete. I may open a more general blog on running, but the idea behind the pure insanity is completed.
Was it insane? In many ways, yes.
However, what I gained was reward enough, and that refutes the idea that it was an insane pursuit.
And so, I leave this blog concluding that to train for and run marathons is not insane. It just feels that way from the outside looking in.
Boston
The most frequent question I've received in telling people my race story (at least, from non-marathoners) is this: how could I run for 26 miles with pain in my leg?
I answer like so: distance runners learn to distinguish between pains that will stop them and pains that will merely hurt. If I stopped running every time I felt pain in the first few miles of a run, I'd never run more than three miles -- there's always some miscellaneous pain. So I've learned to put such pains at the back of my mind and keep going. My left leg pain on race day was just another one of those early pains that I hoped would go away. It didn't, but it wasn't enough pain to stop me from running.
Meanwhile, I saw a sports-medecine doc who gave an inital diagnosis of a strained anterior tibula, ordered physical therapy and an MRI. I will run again, but I'm going to take it slowly.
To a large degree, the journey I began in 2006 ended with the 2009 Boston Marathon. While at the time I decided to run my first marathon, I had no plans beyond that one, the goal to run Boston grew out of those first months of training and the attempts to learn about how to train for and run a good marathon.
The initial goal was to run one in 3:30, and the very next goal was to drop that to 3:15 to qualify me for Boston. It wasn't a long progression, then. It was two steps.
Along the way, I rediscovered my love of distance running and developed a new love for the strength and power that comes from intense marathon training. When I think about how fast I was going at the end of Boston, or how fast I was going at the end of the Presidio 10 (the day after a 20 miler), I feel deeply powerful.
It feels strange, then, to not have another goal at this time, to feel done. True, a couple of goals seem within reach: a sub 3 hour marathon (which I could realistically achieve at CIM later this year), or qualifying for New York (which would be a stretch-- to break 2:55, but in a year, when I'm 40, would only require 3:10, or a 1:30 half-marathon, both of which I've done this year). But neither of those goals seem as large as Boston did.
And the powerful feeling I described above comes at a price. It takes time and energy that I cannot spend with my family. While not running at all would be too great a loss to my health, both physical and mental, marathon training is a whole other level.
And so, for at least a while, this is it for marathons. The insane first marathon turned into five, and now it is time to return to sanity.
- - -
Along this journey, certain people made all the difference..
The K-Stars: a great running club by virtue of it being a great collection of people. I count many new friendships from amongst the K-Stars, friendships that transcend running. Chris, Ari and Anna: I wouldn't have met you any other way, and I'm glad to count you as friends.
Mike and Thomas provided great inspiration and unofficial coaching, and I appreciate those friendships greatly. Thomas put me on the right track by pointing me to Pfitzinger, and Mike helped motivate me with cautions that I had to work hard to overcome.
Galen turned out to be far more than a running partner. His generosity extended to coming along for race support at CIM, and to a large extent, he chose to run Boston this year at my urging (and hence, we ran only two of my five marathons together, first and last). But running aside, if nothing else lasts from this marathoning binge, Galen's friendship is something I count as worth it all.
No list of people would be complete without my best supporter, my wife. Besides her schlepping around town while 6 months pregnant to cheer me at my first marathon, she continued to be understanding as I went on to run four more, often taking care of our children while I'd be off running countless miles each weekend. My trip to Boston put me away from her and our kids for five days, and I know how hard it is to manage the kids alone for one day, let alone five. She has my everlasting love.
- - -
With those thoughts now articulated, I feel this blog is nearly complete. I may open a more general blog on running, but the idea behind the pure insanity is completed.
Was it insane? In many ways, yes.
- The time spent running was significant
- the change in my lifestyle was not trivial
- the adaptation of my body was profound
- the collection of gear (shoes, clothes, backpack, bottles, GU, running bag) was expensive
- the mental discipline to run 26.2 miles five times, the last while enduring pain throughout, was pretty nutty -- I rarely even listen to an iPod while running
However, what I gained was reward enough, and that refutes the idea that it was an insane pursuit.
- The feeling of power when I was in peak shape before tapering
- The satisfaction of exceeding my goals in races (all exept the first one)
- The joy of new friendships
- The admiration of friends, family and acquaintences
- The sense of identity of being able to run like the few
- The physical benefits in terms of fitness and strength
And so, I leave this blog concluding that to train for and run marathons is not insane. It just feels that way from the outside looking in.
So join me in my next blog that will irregularly chronicle what comes next.
posted by Brent at
5:14 PM
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