Running to Somewhere

I ran a marathon. An effing marathon! I'm just going to start with that. Because 5 months ago I wasn't a runner at all.

My running loot thus far

It's been a weird year for me - a heavy mix of challenging, and sad, and awesome. This year I gave up my secure government job, which I'd held (in various roles) for the past nearly 8 years, so that I could take a job running a very small non-profit organization. So small that I'm the only staff member. And, it's not quite full time, so I would have to work some odd jobs to completely make ends meet. But I knew that if I was going to try something completely different, to really see what I'm capable of, that I had to do it now. It was a little intimidating, moving to a job with no real benefits, where if I succeed is completely up to me, but it was also an amazing opportunity, because I have so much latitude to try new things and bring in new ideas. It felt so strange to go from an environment where everything was laid out and measured, to one where there were few rules. My mind was still adapting to that when the second big change hit - my two year relationship ended, which led to me needing to find a new place to live right away. All that change at once left me feeling a bit... unmoored. An odd word, but that's the one that fits best.

I spent the next couple months moving into my new place and figuring out my new patterns. It's funny how where you live really changes how you go about your day. One of the huge benefits of my new place was that it was less than half a mile away from the Monon Trail, but I didn't realize that quite yet.

I started trying new things, and signing up for most anything that looked interesting. Not so different than what I normally do, but now I had more free time to do it all. And one of the things I did was sign up for the Indy Pride 5K in June.

I intended to do some running in advance of the 5K, but you know how it is. I went out running a couple of times, but only a couple. It's just a 5K, I figured, I can do that. I convinced a friend of mine who has run many marathons to do it with me. "I'll just run with you at your pace," she said. I figured we would go slow. I wasn't worried about it.

We got to the race that day and lined up along with everyone else. The race was about to start, and as I looked around, there was my now ex-girlfriend, just parallel from us. It was startling. I hadn't expected to see her there. She wasn't a runner. But then, neither was I. The race began, and I took off like a bat out of hell. It wasn't rational, I just had to GO. But it wasn't just that - it was also my roller derby training. It's been years since I've played, but back then I was a jammer, and I guess I still have a jammer's mindset. When there's a pack of people, my brain tells me to find the holes between them and GO GO GO. That's how you get through and score the points. I had to remind myself not to smash into people as I passed by. I assume that's frowned upon outside of the derby track.

My friend easily kept up with me, but she warned me that I was going too fast. I didn't care. I just had to go. It was ok until about mile two. And then my legs, and my lungs, let me know that they were pretty pissed off about what was happening. I struggled through that last mile plus. I even had to walk for around 30 seconds a couple times, but then I got back to running and I pushed myself as hard as I could. My body was angry. But the moment I crossed the finish line, something happened - there was a feeling of elation, of pure joy. "That was amazing," I said. "Let's do it again." My friend eyed me skeptically and said, "Let's get lunch." I agreed that was a better idea, but for the next couple hours as we rode our bikes back and got lunch, I was on cloud 9. That was the day I became a runner.

At lunch that day my friend joked that soon I'd be running marathons. I told her that was crazy talk, and that I had no interest in that. Famous last words, right?

But I did want to do more running, and right away. I looked around online for my next 5K, but instead found the 5 mile 4th of July run. I convinced my sister to sign up with me, and I started running most every day. I didn't really have a plan, I just ran. Until my knee decided to quit. It was alarming - one day it just locked up. After looking through some running books, I self diagnosed it as runner's knee. The derby girl in me didn't care about the injury, I just wanted to keep running. I was afraid that my new habit of running would be destroyed by sitting around for more than a few days, that I wouldn't be able to get the rhythm back. But the more rational part of me knew I had to let it rest. Some runner friends suggested it could be partially from my shoes, and they were right. I'd been running in some old sneakers I'd bought a few years back at JCPenney. So I went to BlueMile and bought some actual running shoes, after they videotaped me running on a treadmill and analyzed my stride. The price tag hurt a bit, but they did the trick. After a couple weeks of taking it easy and running less distance and at a slower pace, the knee pain gradually went away, just in time for the Firecracker 5 mile run.

By now, I was convinced I was going to leave my sister in the dust, since I had been running semi-regularly for the last month and she had not. She does a boot camp class a few times a week, but I assumed since it didn't include running, other than some sprints, that I would totally show her up. I should give you a little background here - I tried going running with my sister once about 8 years ago. And I made it less than a minute. I don't think we even made it out of the parking lot before I gave up. So when I started running this time, my family thought it was hilarious and unexpected.

The day of the Firecracker run came, and neither my sister or I have any sort of running watch, so we just figured we would run and hope for a good time. As we got going, we noticed a lot of people passing us - so we sped up. And up. And my sister and I ran together the whole time. I kept thinking she would tire out, but nope, she was right there. When we finally saw the finish line, I bolted for it, trying to beat her at all costs. I crossed the finish line about two steps before her. And then we went to check our times, and they were the same. Exactly the same, down to the second. She must have hit the start line just before me and it evened out. Not having been tracking our pace, we ended up going much faster than we would have otherwise, and we finished the 5 mile run in 53 minutes and 19 seconds, just shy of a 9 minute pace. Not bad for only my second month of running.

Of course, after having done a 5 mile race, there was nothing to do now but sign up for a half marathon. I started looking around online for a race to do, and for what to eat as a vegetarian runner. That's when I found No Meat Athlete. And I was going to download the half marathon training guide but... right next to it was the full marathon training guide. I thought on it for a couple of days. Signing up for a full marathon was a crazy idea. I'd only been running for a couple of months, and even a half marathon was a big step forward. But I needed a big, crazy goal - something that seemed daunting and possibly impossible. I believed that I could do a half marathon if I trained for it, but a marathon? I really wasn't sure. So before I could think about it much more, I downloaded the full marathon training guide. I decided to cut out the first few weeks of the training plan, since I'd successfully run a 5 mile race, and I gridded out how long it would take me to be able to run a marathon based on the plan. That put me into November, which by fate was exactly when the Monumental Marathon would be held.

Now, I'm not completely crazy. I knew I should run a half marathon before I ran a full one. So I checked out the running calendar and found the half marathon that fit into the plan. It was an odd one called Boom Shakalaka - held at night, and running four loops of the same course instead of one long course. Not exactly ideal, but I was sticking to the plan. A couple runner friends, who met each other at a running group and got married, had invited me to come to their running group on Tuesdays, which I'd started doing regularly. They offered to run the half with me, at my pace, as a support team. They're awesome people. They are also really fast. It drove me to go a little faster than I probably would have on my own, and they distracted me with funny stories each time we had to go up the horrible hill. That's the drawback of doing four loops of the same course - you get to know it well. You know you're going to have to climb that hill again, and then again, and again, before you're done. You memorize where the potholes are, because you know your last loop is going to be in the dark and you didn't want to wear a head lamp. And that last lap, each time you pass a turn, or a climb a hill, you think: At least I'll never have to climb that awful hill ever again. I got a little grumpy during that last loop, but my friends took it in stride. "All you have left is a 5K!" they said encouragingly. "So what you're saying," I grumped, "is that I still have to run a 5K." But they were good sports, and when we crossed the finish line I felt... tired. I was out of fuel and exhausted, but still so glad that I did it. I've never felt that elusive runner's high again after the first time. But I'd finished a half marathon! That was something that the me of 6 months ago could never have imagined.

The day after the half, I officially registered to do the Monumental Marathon. When I finished my registration, I took a deep breath, and felt my nerves jangling. I was a little afraid. The half had been hard - really hard. And here I was signing up to do it twice in a row. Like hey, let's do that whole insane thing again - IMMEDIATELY. It was crazy, but I needed some crazy. I needed something to strive for that I wasn't really sure I could do.

That crazy goal, and my drive to meet it, was what motivated me to get up at 6 a.m. and go running - to spend 2-4 hours on a Sunday morning doing my long runs when I could be in bed getting that weekend sleep. I'd never been a morning person but now I was. I was up with the sun, or even before sunrise. I actually used the words, "I get to run 12 miles this Sunday," instead of "I have to run 12 miles this Sunday." I'm sure it sounded obnoxious, but I was in love with running.

Running was where I could get my thoughts together, or not think at all. I looked forward to it, and to each time I got to add miles to my long run. Not that every run was great. The August heat was terrible and sometimes I felt like I wasn't making any progress at all. But still, I rarely missed a run, and when I did it really bothered me. I started meeting new people through my running group, and reconnecting with people I'd been acquaintances with for years who were also runners. It was incredible - the sense of community in the running world. It was something I didn't even know I was looking for, but I'm incredibly grateful for it.

And then finally, last week, it was time. I drove to the Convention Center to pick up my marathon packet, and the moment it was in my hands, my heart started beating faster. It reminded me of how I used to feel right before a derby game - a heady mix of excitement and nerves that I learned how to use as my fuel.

I felt that feeling again as I was dropped off race morning. It was cold - it had even snowed a few flakes the night before. I'd had to make some last minute wardrobe changes, and I'm so glad I did, but I was nervous about running in clothes I'd never worn before. I was going to run in capri leggings, but when I saw the forecast I thought better of it and went to Target for some full length ones. My runner friends told me to go to Goodwill and get a sweatshirt that I could wear for the first couple miles until I warmed up, so that then I could throw it off and not feel bad about it. I ended up all in various shades of blue, like a Smurf. But I thought hey, if you can't dress in crazy colors and patterns while running a marathon, when can you?

We all stood in the chute, shivering and dancing to keep warm, waiting for the official start. And then, it was there. As we all slowly made our way out, I realized - I was running a marathon. I was there.

The first few miles, I was incredibly happy. There was nowhere else I'd rather be. My mom and sister surprised me on one of the downtown streets - I hadn't expected to see them until we were up in Broad Ripple. It felt fantastic to have them there, cheering me on. I passed an old co-worker and her husband, in huge inflatable Halloween costumes, and they gave me quick hugs as I passed by. I loved all the signs people held up along the route, "Smash this race - like the patriarchy" and "Worst parade ever" being my favorite of the day.

I never really hit "the wall". For me, it was a more gradual feeling of misery. A little past the halfway mark, I started to really feel it. I was finally warm enough to ditch my vest, but my legs were starting to protest. My first goal was just to finish the marathon, but my second goal was to run the whole time. Or "run". I didn't care how slow, I wanted to run it. Around mile 18, my body started suggesting that we should walk for a while. My brain disagreed. So we argued for a while. I did walk through water stops, because I'm not coordinated enough to run and drink water (I tried it at an earlier race and ended up wearing most of the water) but I started running again immediately after getting rid of my cup.

Around mile 19, just past the IMA, there was a rooster. Just a random rooster roaming around on the side of the road. I thought it was hilarious, and I laughed audibly. The runner next to me shot me a concerned glance. For a moment I was afraid I was hallucinating this rooster, but I wasn't that far gone. I swear, there really was a rooster. On that leg of the race, someone had posted a number of funny and sarcastic signs, reminding us that "Hey, you paid to do this," and "I bet this seemed like a great idea 4 months ago!" It was funny, and true.

The last 8 miles were brutal. It felt like I was swimming through cookie dough, but it wasn't nearly as delicious. My longest training run had been 20 miles. That's where my training plan stopped. It said a runner was more likely to injure herself on longer training runs, so I would just do those last 6 miles for the first time during the marathon. No problem. Ha. During that last 8 miles my body battled my brain. I wanted to walk, more than I'd wanted anything in a long time. I started negotiating with myself - after the next mile, maybe I could walk a bit? But my brain shut that idea down, and I didn't walk. I kept running. Very slowly, but I think it qualified. Sure, I got passed a few times by speed walkers but those ladies terrified me with their determination. Finally, I got down to the last two miles. I knew there was no way I would give up during the last two miles, so I kept "running". And then it was the last mile. Then the last half mile. And that's where I threw it into gear, and switched from "running" into actual running. I gave it all the fuel I had left and turned the corner to that very last leg. I could see the end, and I ramped it up as fast as I could. My mom and sister were right there waiting for me, and I felt tears threatening to pour out of my face as I crossed the finish line. I did it. I effing did it. I ran a marathon.

I can't really explain the sense of accomplishment. I set a plan, and I did something that seemed nearly impossible. But it's not just about setting a goal, and doing it. Running has been so much more than the physical act of running. It's been about friendship, and kindness, and it makes me a little teary-eyed (whatever, shut up) just thinking about all the people that have encouraged and supported me over the last 5 months. The running community is full of good people. Everyone is willing to offer advice if you want it, or they'll encourage you in whatever you're putting your mind to next. There were a few raised eyebrows when I decided to run a marathon in a relatively short period, but no one tried to talk me out of it. My family and friends sent their encouragement the morning of the marathon, and I wish everyone could feel that level of support. I received phone calls, texts, messages from a friend living in India, from my dad, from runner and non-runner friends, and even from my ex-wife, all at 7 a.m. on a Saturday morning when they all would normally be asleep. Seeing my mom and sister in three different places along the race route made me smile and hunker down to run more. They spent their entire day being there to support me.

I wasn't sure what I was looking for when I started running. I never really could put it into words. But whatever it is, I know that I found it, and then some. I don't know what's next. But I know that whatever it is, I can do it too.