Eleven Lessons I've Learned from Marathon Training

You know you've been training for a long time when a ten-mile run feels short and easy. I wonder how long I'd have to train for a twenty-mile run to feel short? In two very short weeks, almost two years after giving birth to my sweet girl, I will, hopefully, line up at the start of the Mercedes Marathon and take on 26.2 miles. In the past 18 weeks, my training has taught me quite a bit about running and just pushing your body to what you once thought were its limits. As my mind wandered during a 10-miler today, I came up with the following lessons:

In no particular order:

1. Running ten miles with a wrinkle in your sock hurts!

2. Runners can be very gross people. I kid you not, I have watched a runner pass me then spit out a loogie (sp?) that rivaled the size of a jelly-fish. I have also had a runner pass me, wave courteously, then press one nostril, while ejecting snot from the other. Just thinking about these makes me green.

3. At the first sign of injury, back off! Perhaps three unsuccessful attempts at running a marathon have made me a bit wiser. Before I gained my wisdom, I would think backing off, slowing down, resting, what-have-you would mean losing valuable training time, so I trained through the pain. Instead, resting means that you heal and still get to run. By training through injury, I worsened the injury and did not get to run.

4. Runners on the trail run or walk three to four abreast and refuse to give way to runners going either direction. This does not bode well for clumsy, injury-prone runners, like myself, who risk spraining an ankle by jumping off of the sidewalk to run in the mud. A little politeness goes a long way.

5. Despite what my gym teacher or high school basketball coach say, I AM AN ATHLETE!

6. You can train in a 23-degree windchill and survive. Along those same lines, don't overdress. Save the ski suit for the slopes.

7. You don't need an Ipod. I've trained for four marathons with my trusty Sony walkman from 1998. Granted, I haven't run one yet; it's not the radio's fault. Good thing I love sports-talk radio. And when the batteries die in the middle of a run, it can be fun to get lost in your thoughts
or daydream for the first time since Geometry class.

8. A twenty-mile training run does not make you famous or a superhero. My nearly two-year-old could care less that mom was so sore she could barely lift her toes or brush her hair; A wanted to play chase, snuggle bunny, and read, while bouncing in my lap. It doesn't take long to get over yourself.

9. Running is 25% physical and 75% mental!

10. The support of family and friends is critical to the training process. I could not have trained without my husband. He cheered me and took care of A during 3+ hour runs.

11. Perhaps most importantly, I've come to understand that God loves me and that means He cares about the small things that are important to me, including running. As my previous blog mentioned, I've been struggling with IT band trouble, yet, somehow at mile 17 of a 20 miler, I realized that I had not had any knee pain, not even an ache. Before I began my run, I prayed that God would put his healing hands on my knees and get me through the run, and He did. I don't think this life-long desire to run a marathon is just a haphazard whim. I believe I long to run it for a reason that is greater than proving to myself that I can, so I also pray that God will be glorified in the training process, as well as on race day. If anything, this training process has required me to lean on my faith, and on February 10th, I believe I'll be proof that with Christ ALL things are possible, even 26.2!