I’m Never Running Again
29 October 2006I just finished running my first marathon, and I have a running hangover. I never want to run again. But like such promises made about drinking, I doubt the conviction will last more than a week.
Being my first marathon, I wanted to go out there and be realistic, and went through the training. There are tons of training suggestions on the internet. Google them, read through several, and pick and choose to do what works best for you, the way you should do with recipes, they aren’t necessarily made to be followed to the ounce or the mile, and the fun it to be able to adapt to the situation, whether it’s playing soccer twice a week or not having any fresh sage. As for final prep, I would recommend Cleveland Clinic’s advice.
Back to the story at hand. My goal was a 3:30, a modest but challenging goal for the first time. That meant pretty much exactly 5 min per km (that’s how it’s done over here), which was easy to remember. The first 5 km, I was running 30 seconds under my pace (split: 23:13), on par for a 3:10, which is a phenomenal time, and qualifies for most major marathons. My main goal was to not experience pain for the first 2 and a half hours, so I kept a pace that would prevent that, even it was slightly faster. The pace continued through 10 km (split: 45:11), despite my efforts to slow down. Through 15 (1:07:34), hadn’t slowed down, 20 (1:29:38), 25 (1:52:21), crusing.
I was past half way, well on my way to a 3:10 (half-way split of 1:34:40), feeling great. The entire time I had been repeating to myself “there is nowhere you’d rather be, you’re feeling great, no pain, one km at a time”, and it was working. I mean I did feel all those things, but repeating it made me feel better. At km 30 (2:15:45), I began to feel the pain, which I knew was coming. I just didn’t know how hard it would come. But I didn’t slow down at all.
At 32 km down, I knew I just had 10 left, under 50 minutes, I can do anything for 50 minutes. So I pushed on, but my pace was slipping slightly, coming in at 35 km at 2:40:11. And then, I hit the wall. Hard.
In the last 7 km, I lost 15 minutes I had worked so hard to build up. I started crampingi up, slowly at first, right quad, pushed on. Then left hamstring, left calf, right calf, right hamstring, left quad. My entire legs were turning on me.
I knew I had to do something: stretch. The only problem was, when I tried to stretch my quad in the normal way, my hamstring would ball up like Sonic the Hedgehog. If I tried to stretch my hamstring, by straightening my leg slightly out in front, my quad would ball up like the aforementioned character. If I tried to stretch my calf the normal way, both my quad and ham would cramp up.
So the only thing left was a position that would still stretch them, albeit less effectively, without causing anything to cramp up. I found the position. It’s like when girl’s try to pee on a dirty toilet, a half squat, legs spread slightly apart, torso leaning slightly forward for balance. So that’s what I had to do. It wasn’t pretty. And to add ridicule to embarassment, the crowd was all chearing me on, telling me to keep going, shouting my name (printed on everyone’s number), as I was the only one really stopping, since I had worked my way up to the guys who were pretty competitive.
My plan for the last 7 km basically involved a continual rotation of walking and shaking my legs, shuffling like a sad and awkard old man, and doing my girl-peeing-on-a-dirty-toilet stretch routine. Like I said, it wasn’t pretty. I came in to the 40 km mark at 3:12:44 (losing over a minute per km), and finished at 3:25:50, 13:04 for the last 2.2 km!!! But at least I finished, felt like crap, felt full of adrenaline and taurine, and achieved a time that I could live with.
There are two important take aways from this, which is why I think it’s relevant to the Generation Echo blog. First, challenge yourself, put yourself on the line, do things that give you a black and white answer about where you stand, how hard you are. I’m a huge believer in this. It’s the only way to really see what’s inside. Since college, there are probably very few opportunities any of us have to really measure yourself, no tests, no college sports, fewer ambitious peers in the vicinity. So you have to make the opportunities, whether it’s physical, social, mental, intellectual, whatver, get out there and do it.
The second thing, slightly related to the first, is that today I found out I was physically, not mentally limited in my ability to achieve a faster time. That’s a good thing to know, because I know what to work on for the next time, training more, paying attention to my body. I personally would rather be physically limited, but it’s important to find out. Some people maybe excellent at the preparation, but afraid of the pain. At least you know what to work on for the next time, and you can always improve. I’m not judging what’s better or worse, just whaht works for me.
Now I’m off to take a long batch, eat pasta, and do my best to walk around my apartment as little as possible.
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