Today marks the tenth anniversary of my first marathon – the 2009 Philadelphia Marathon – and so I have been reflecting on my decade as a “marathoner” — what I’ve learned, what I’ve accomplished, what I still hope to accomplish, and what’s changed for me throughout that time. It occurs to me that there may be some universal truths in what I’m pondering, or at least some way of relating my own path to that of other runners, so I figured I’d spew these thoughts out publicly in this post. May anyone taking the time to read it find a glimmer of wisdom, or at least some relatable truths!
First off, I’d love to tell the story (briefly) of my first marathon, because it feels like a lesson in itself. Or maybe a cautionary tale, at least. Aspiring marathoners, pay attention!
Even though I’d been running for about five years already, I didn’t truly get the running bug until around 2008, when I spectated at the Philadelphia Marathon for the first time. A friend of mine was running at a ridiculously fast and inspiring pace, and I went with family and friends to cheer him on. The energy of the marathon crowd, the look of simultaneous anguish and accomplishment on runners’ faces, and the joy of the finish line all awakened the aspiration in me that I would someday run that race myself. In the back of my mind I figured it would be Philly the following year, and while I didn’t sign up right away, the thoughts in the back of my mind eventually proved true.
Fast forward a month or so, and I decided on a major running goal for the following year: I would run at least a mile every day and become one of those streakers I’d been reading about. (No, not THOSE streakers… the fully clothed ones who run every day without missing a day!). I have to tell you, even ten years later this was the best resolution I’ve ever made, and one of the few I actually stuck with (sorry, nonexistent yoga practice!). The streak led to my first 5k, which led to a renewed excitement about races, which led to my signing up for the Philadelphia Marathon. I learned that a friend from high school was also running her first marathon and hoping to qualify for Boston with a 3:40, so that became my goal, as well.
Here’s one of major the lessons I learned that year: rest is key, and when you’re running every day it’s kind of hard to rest. I found that rest is especially challenging with a toddler to care for and another baby on the way (though, these realizations may not be quite as applicable to everyone…) And marathon training with a brand new baby, (not so surprisingly) proved difficult (my training for a marathon while a baby was on the way was obviously more difficult for my wife, but just sayin’).
Anyway, in my mind it didn’t matter how well my training went, I unwaveringly thought 3:40 would be a piece of cake. Not having run a marathon before, what did I know about the effect weather, the course, how much I drank the day before, etc., would have on the actual running part? It’s not like anyone ever talks about running a marathon or there are magazine articles everywhere dedicated to this sort of stuff, and the internet was still relatively new… and doing research is boring… so cut me some slack!!
Skip ahead to November 22, 2009… no, skip ahead to mile 16 of the Philadelphia marathon on November 22, 2009: My first sign that something might be wrong was my friend Jill asking, “are you breathing okay?” I thought I was, but she must have known something I didn’t. Not that my breathing became an issue, but I definitely was not “okay”. I was hurting pretty early on but pushing that 3:40 pace anyway. So around mile 16 I learned another important lesson: always include hills in your marathon training. Back in 2009, some of the hilly part of the Philadelphia Marathon was on the back end, after the full marathoners had the pleasure of watching all the half marathoners finish with glory (not as motivating as you might think when you still have 13.1 to run). Anyway, I hit Lemon Hill around mile 14 or 15 or who knows when, and that was my first experience of “the wall”. It killed me. I had to walk sections of the race from that point on.
I’ve since walked sections of marathons without shame, but this was my first marathon, and I felt awful! I remember the sense of wanting spectators to divert their eyes when I limped past, and to shut up with their “You’ve got this!” attitudes; I just wanted the race to be over with. I don’t even know if it was my lack of sleep, lack of downtime in training, lack of proper nutrition, or what, that led to the proverbial wall, but I did keep going, hoping for at least a sub-4 first marathon (which is honestly a pretty fantastic first marathon, regardless of how I felt about my race in those moments I had to walk!)
Let’s skip to mile 22(ish) now. Here’s where a learned probably the most pivotal lesson of that race: if you have a goal time, make the potty breaks short. I stopped to pee at mile 22 (Jill had gone ahead on her own long ago, and got her Boston Qualifier, by the way!), stepped back out of the porta-potty somewhat refreshed, ran the rest of the way to the finish line, and celebrated!
My time? 3:59:77.
That’s no typo. That’s my way of saying I finished my first marathon, for which I had an A goal and a B goal, in 4 hours and seventeen seconds. SEVENTEEN SECONDS! To this day, I sometimes count when I pee to see what seventeen seconds feels like.
The best part about my finish time, 4:00:17, though, is that it is MY finish time. From MY FIRST MARATHON! It’s a number that represents success, not failure. Ten years and thirteen marathons later, 4:00:17 is still my favorite finish time, because it represents a meaningful journey of its own, but also the entry to a decade-long path that has taught me so much about myself.
Anyhow, I’m going to wrap up this trip down memory lane now and then regroup with a separate post about my decade in marathoning. To recap, here’s what I learned from my first one:
1. Be reasonable. Remember to rest and don’t push yourself too hard if your life circumstances demand time and energy. Be kind to yourself!
2. Study the marathon course, and include hills (and variety in general) in your training. Be prepared!
3. Speaking of being prepared, it’s good to have several targets in mind, in case you fall short. I generally have an A, B, C, and D goal nowadays, which includes just flat out living to see another day!
4. The lines may be long, but it’s always good to use the porta-potty BEFORE the race. Give your nervous bladder a break.
5. You are doing the best with what you have – know that especially in a marathon, folks understand that you are doing your best, and they are genuine in their words of encouragement.
6. Learn from your “failures” (I put that in quotes because nobody who has finished a marathon has failed at running a marathon). Enjoy the parts that you can, and let go of the rest – there is always another race!
Happy Running!!!