I thought I knew what this was all about.
Saturday, May 09, 2009
My husband has been running marathons for 5 years. I have watched him train, cheered him on, massaged him, tied his shoes, bandaged his nipples, toasted his bagels, stashed water bottles along long run routes… He has run 15 marathons and 2 ultra marathons (>26.2). I think he is a badass, but that is beside the point.
And I would have said that the hardest part of this whole grueling wonderful amazing and sometimes heartbreaking process was the long run. And I was pretty sure I knew a lot about it, having heard about vo2 max and lactate threshold and lalalalala until I finally found him a running group and some buddies to talk about it with. But then I started running, and that’s a whole different story.
I’ve been training for my first marathon for 13 weeks now. And now I know. The hardest part is not the long run. I treat the long run as a secret from myself, I don’t think too much about the miles ahead because that is too scary. Better to admire the miles from the finish line each day.
The hardest part is the everydayness of it. Some days you would rather do something else. You would rather ride your bike or swim or take a class. You have not been to Body Combat in months, and you would like to pretend to elbow something. You would like to stay in bed. But you can’t. Not if you don’t want to give up this goal. This goal, it may be months away. But you have to rededicate yourself almost every day. That is the hardest part.