"I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly, I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky"
Confession #1 I want to be an ultra marathoner. From when I was a freshman in high school and I read Dean Karnanez' book "Ultra Marathon Man" to the first (of many) times I read "Born To Run" I've always always wanted to run an ultra.
But there was a time...a loooooong time during which I gave up that dream or any thoughts thereof. That was the time of osteopenia and stress fractures and being too unhealthy to make it through 10 miles much less 100. I gave up on that dream in the midst of a period of my life during which I gave up on myself too. It's been an entire year, where I've gone from zero, nada, absolutely no running, to a 75 mile week in preparation for my marathon. (Something ELSE I almost gave up on) And so, during this landmark week I got to thinking: maybe, maybe ultras really are something that are in the cards for me.
I mean, don't get me wrong, I run at midnight a lot, I was tired, and dehydrated, and probably could have used a Gu (or 5) so it could have been the tiredness or the hunger talking, but it's a thought that I just can't get out of my head. It's the one thing I've wanted to do the longest, the one dream that I just can't seem to get over. Sometimes what gets me through those long miles is thinking about even longer miles someday.
This brings us to the second half of this confession. I will probably never do an Ironman. I realize it's something that I talked about for over a year, I realize I work at a bike shop, I realize that thinking about Ironmans (Ironmen?) was the one thing that got me through that stress fracture, got me through one of the hardest times in my life. And that's O.K. because right then and there, that's what I needed and that's why it was put into my life. But like I said, it's ultra marathons that I keep coming back to. Because running an ultra isnt about training or competition. Instead, it's about 100 miles of thankfulness and being able to shout at mile 99.9 "I made it!" ...Literally, and figuratively.
Confession #2 Somewhere between the 50 mile weeks and the 75 mile weeks I found that listening to classical music makes me run prettier. My stride is better, my foot strike faster. I'm not sure what it is, but something about Beethoven's 5th makes those hard miles in the middle a little faster. Additionally, when a really good song does come on and I can't help myself, I sometimes stop in the middle of my run and have a little solo dance party. You know, just because.
Confession #3 I start out every run swearing up and down to myself that I'm 'only' going to run 8 miles. If I shoot out the door with the idea in mind that I have to do 10 or 15 or 17 it's just not as fun. Because, as I realized a long time ago, having to run destroys all of the fun of it. So I have to run 56 (8 miles a day, 7 days a week) miles per week. Everything else, is just for the hell of it.
Confession #4 I still fear stress fractures. For most of my life things like failure and spiders ranked high on my list of things I'm afraid of. These days, absolutely nothing is more scary to me than another stress fracture. No amount of running, no race, no speed workout is worth running the risk of another injury like that. Call it emotional scarring if you absolutely must, but every time something hurts, every time I feel a twinge in my hip, a shin splint, a tight tendon in my foot, I automatically fear another stress fracture. I spend the next 3-5 days babying said "injury" until it goes away and I realize it's not a stress fracture. I will probably never stop being afraid of being inured, because now that I've found that love to run again, I can't imagine getting through a day without it.
Confession #5 I say a prayer of thanks after every run. Because though it's been a very long, very bumpy road for me, this...right here and now...was worth every step I ever took on crutches, every day I ever had to aqua jog, every second I ever doubted that I'd run fast again.
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