The count down is starting to look intimidatingly small. Less than a week until I hit the pavement in San Diego for my 3rd full marathon. As I get closer and closer to June 3rd, the question I hear most frequently from people I don't run with is, "Are you ready?"
I've encountered this question before my other marathons and I always struggle to answer it. Before my first marathon, when approached with this question, all I could manage to reply was "I have no idea, but I hope so." A marathon is an unknown entity in and of itself each and every time, but the first marathon is the biggest unknown. You know that you are going to be doing something incredibly difficult. You know your legs will get tired, but you've never experienced that kind of bodily fatigue before. And you've been told that you're going to hit a mental and physical "wall" at some point in the race, but you've never really hit this wall before. And you just don't know how hard it will be to break through. And you worry that sometimes people can't do it. So the biggest worry on your mind isn't "Am I ready?," it's "Is this possible?"
When the question was presented to me before my second marathon, it gave me a different feeling. I wasn't looking into the physical unknown anymore. I knew my body was capable, but I also knew how much it hurt. I remembered telling everyone who asked me how the first marathon was, that it was by far, the most difficult thing I had ever done in my life. From the first marathon, I had learned that the biggest challenge during the race was a mental battle. I had seen the "wall" now, and it was tall and thick and you needed a sledge hammer of a mind to break through it. So when asked "Are you ready?", I wanted to respond and say yes, my body is ready but I have no idea if my mind is. I figured people would think I was crazy if I said that, so I simply replied, "I'm as ready as I'm going to be."
And now, encroaching on marathon #3, I'm being asked this question again. And again, I don't know how to answer. Looking at accomplishing this insane feat a third time is yet again a different feeling. This time though, I look at this marathon through the eyes of a marathoner. Before the first marathon, I didn't know if I would become a marathoner. Before the second one, I keep thinking that the first time could have been a fluke. Maybe I wouldn't be able to do it again. But this time, I feel like a marathoner. I've done it twice before and the rational half of my brain knows I can do it again. But the irrational half has an abundance of fears and worries because of that unknown quality of a marathon. A marathon is a living, breathing, fickle thing. No matter how well trained you are, how many times you've already done it, how "ready" you are, sometimes people just have bad marathons. Who knows when it will be my turn to have a bad marathon, and it's scares me to death that this could be it.
Here's the thing though. If I wasn't nervous or scared or shaking in my boots, that would be more cause for worry than the nerves. When I was a swimmer, I always did better during a race when there was pressure, stress, or a need to do well. The races I was nervous for were always the races I did best in. If I wasn't nervous, I knew I wouldn't do well. If I didn't feel butterflies in my stomach, then something was missing from that race. I'm a person who does well under pressure. In fact, better under pressure. Before a marathon, I should feel nervous. If I didn't, then I shouldn't be running it. Because anybody who isn't nervous about running 26.2 miles, no matter how many times you've done it, is missing a screw somewhere.
For the remaining 6 days before my race, I'm going to continue trying to do all the good things that will keep my body prepared for my race. I'll hydrate regularly, eat the best I can, try to get lots of sleep, and continue to respect the taper. I'm going to remember how great it felt to push strong through the wall at Whidbey. I'm going to keep trying to practice fighting the wall in my mind. I'm going to remember why I'm doing this, so that when I want to stop during the tough miles, I can remind myself. And when someone asks me if I'm ready, I think I'm going to revert back to the second half of my first answer to this question. "I hope so." Because I really do.
No comments:
Post a Comment