This past weekend I ran a half marathon. It was the longest distance I have run in a year. The weekend before I had tested the running waters by doing 10 miles. On that run, I had felt good. It was one hour and twenty minutes of feeling like a runner. When I was done, I thought that I could run the marathon. And the thing is, I actually could run it since I am registered for it. It was one of those things I had just done, back when the registration price was a dollar a mile, putting it at a bit over $26. You can’t go wrong with that price,
whether you run it or not. So the ten mile run and then the half marathon were a way to see if I thought I could do it. Thing is, after the ten, I was in. Part of that was due to my run and how good I felt and part was due to my friend and fellow blogger Paula. I have repeatedly been inspired by her dogged determination to participate in and complete the marathon despite physical setbacks (like bad knees). I thought about Paula plugging away and I was there. I saw myself in the dark at the start in front of the giant Ala Moana Shopping Center Santa that is on the top of the parking deck. I was in. That was until I ran the half this past weekend.
Sunday morning at the ungodly hour of 5:30 a.m. I was out at Kapiolani Park along with a lot of other folks to run the half marathon known as the Val Nolasco. I was anxious but thought I had it under control after my great ten miles the weekend before. The race traces the marathon route which entails running out and back on Kalanianaole Highway. It is the worst part of the marathon. Long and straight. You would give your first born to reach the turn around. Like a desert. It’s that bad. And even though I was only doing the half, it felt like the marathon out on Kalanianaole. And I know what the talk is. The talk is that if you can do thirteen miles, you can do eighteen and if you can do eighteen you can do the marathon. As I headed back after the glorious, glorious turn around where I wanted to get down on my hands and knees and kiss the pavement but I was afraid I might not be able to get up, it just so happened that the woman running next to me was someone I knew. She went through the thirteen, eighteen, twenty-six reasoning when I said I was on the fence for the marathon. Of course, at that point I had told my body to just get me to the finish and I swore I would not attempt double this length. Because the run that I was having was not good. And the thought of doubling what I was doing at that moment, kind of made me want to cry.
So now I am definitely not doing the marathon. It is a good choice for me. Part of the problem is that I refuse to walk. It is a stubborn and bull headed thing but it is true. If I am walking then I am likely dying (I would like to mention that when I spoke to my 70 year old mother about this, she said the exact same thing to me before I said it to her. She said that she refuses to walk and if she were, well, you get the picture. ) I am a big believer in listening to my body. I am a reluctant drug taker. I can’t remember the last time I actually used medication, actually ingested a pill. If I am in pain from running, it is OK. I feel like my body is telling me something and there is no reason I shouldn’t listen. So with my body screaming at me this weekend, I am listening and backing down. I think that I will register for the marathon again next year and plan better, get my mileage up so that I am ready for the Val in 2013 and the marathon will be completely doable. And the last word on the marathon this year is, Go Paula go!!