I was running with optimal energy and enthusiasm on Sunday (marathon day). I was well on my way to a 4:10 marathon. I wasn't breathing hard, and just had little hints of quad fatigue. I ran through the mile 20 marker like it was mile 5. I knew in the back of my mind that I had pushed the pace a little too much and wondered at what point the concrete wall that falls from the sky would hit. Well, apparently, I ran head-first into the concrete wall at 22 miles. This is 4.2 miles from the finish line.
In order to describe how the wall felt and how my core being dealt with it, I'll need to describe it in the form of characters/parts/alter-egos:
Friend #1 (the elite athlete): "Push, push, push. Stop whining and hang-in. This is where the men are separated from the boys. Suck it up! Keep the pace. One foot in front of the other. You didn't work this hard to quit now."
Friend #2 (the quitter/wuss extraordinare): "You're done. Finished. Quit. Stop. Lay down on the pavement, now! You're going to get seriously hurt if you continue. You've blown it and you need to admit it and quit. This is too painful and self-abuse."
Friend #3 (the encourager): "See, you're just an overweight, balding guy trying to prove something. You can't be a good distance runner. You still weigh 190 lbs. and have man-boobs. Give it up. Go back to couch duty and give this running stuff up."
Friend #4 (the diplomat): "Modify the approach by slowing down and taking walk-breaks. You may not make your goal, but it'll be okay and you'll still finish with a personal best. No need to get extreme here."
I found myself in a situation where I was questioning my character. It rocked the foundation of my mental capabilities. As I hit the final stretch to the finish line, I got a sudden rush of delirium and ran pretty fast for about 100 yards. I should have pretended that the finish line was just a 100 yards away for 4 miles. ;>)
Anyway, I'm glad it's over. I'm glad I did well. I'm glad that I'm alive. I will do better next time. That's just how I roll. Thanks for your prayers.
Jason
5 comments:
that is the reason i don't run very well alone (and am thankful that shawn runs with me quite often). the quitter and the encourager are the loudest voices in my head when i am alone. on race day, about all i can hear is the athlete.
congrats on finishing after such a long wait to start! I don't think I can do a marathon for awhile...I miss reno already! If you want to read about my first day go to experiencemoundhouse.blogspot. I don't think I'll change it quite yet to "las vegas." Hopefully I'll be out of here as quickly as possible!
beck
I was telling Sue today that I was struck by the picture of you sitting in the chair after the race, wrapped up in your daughter's jackets . . . your wife was hovering expectantly, antipicating your next need/desire . . . your daughters looked on with concern . . . not a worried concern, but a loving concern that can only come from young ladies who love their daddy very much . . .
It was a wonderful picture of a family together and I still cherish it in my mind. . . you are a blessed man and obviously an awesome husband/father . . .
Congratulations on your run . . . personally I thought you finished strong . . .
diga-- I enjoy running alone, but in the later miles could have used some distraction.
beckyboss-- I hope you're enjoying LV. Keep in touch and never stop running.
pluck-- Thanks for the kind words. That was incredibly encouraging. :>)
Wow, it is great to hear what goes on in the mind of a great athlete! I guess from the outside looking in, I pictured the #1 because you always looked calm and focused, but you are right about the many thoughts. I kept thinking about catching up to the person in front of me... then the next... and so goes the cycle. Yeah, I am with you diga, I don't like running alone, but do on occasion. It can be liberating...
Congrats Jason!!
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