Week 1 - Marathon Musings: Why I Run Marathons
I want to start off this post by stating the following:
Marathon running isn’t for everyone. You don’t have to run a marathon to be a “real” runner. You don’t have to want to run a marathon ever. Your worth as a runner doesn’t increase because you’ve run a marathon. Your worth as a runner doesn’t decrease because you have zero desire to run a marathon.
A marathon is a thing people choose to do for reasons that I can’t begin to capture in this post because each of us comes to the marathon distance with a different story. Yes, it is a hell of an achievement to run a marathon, but it’s not just because you ran a marathon; it’s because you’ve put 16-24 weeks of work into being able to run 26.2 miles on race day.
Now that I’ve got that off my chest, I want to focus on me and why I run marathons. And, honestly? There are moments where I’m not even sure why I run marathons, why I want to keep running marathons, and whether or not running marathons is something I should even do (summer marathon training will make me question all of my choices in my runner life).
Prior to my first marathon (2014 Chicago), I would always joke that “I don’t like to drive 26.2 miles, so why would I want to run that?” Well, the joke’s on me because I entered the lottery and, like the start of all great adventures, I left it up to the Universe: If I got in, I was meant to run a marathon. If I didn’t get in, the Universe clearly thought this body was not built for the distance.
I spent the summer of 2014 training for the Chicago Marathon while living in Chicago. I fell in love with running in a way that I don’t think I could have ever done living in Miami. The marathon rolls around, I cross the finish line, and I am left in complete awe of myself.
Did I just run a marathon? Did my body just move for 26.2 miles? Did I fucking do that? Yes. Yes. YES.
I was hooked on the distance and went on to complete 6 marathons over the next 3 years before hitting a hard wall at the 2017 edition of the Chicago Marathon.
After Chicago 2014, I was enamored by the idea of discovering my potential as a runner and the question became “What else can I do?” That “What else?” led me to running multiple marathons in a year and doing things like run streaks and running the year in miles. Then, in 2016, I surprised myself by nabbing a PR and everything shifted. I went from that “What else can I do?” mentality to a “How fast can I do it?” mentality. Gone was the joy and curiosity in my potential and, in its place, was performance and end-result. This works for some, but it didn’t for me.
I went into Chicago 2017 with high expectations of a big PR. What I got instead was a crash and burn of epic proportions where Plan Z (aka the unthinkable plan) played out. The race experience was so awful that I entered my version of the runner’s blues that had me mopey for almost 3 months post-race. I got caught up in my time ego and threw myself the longest, most boring pity party. It was not pretty and I lament spending that much time sulking.
It was during this time that I hired a run coach and vowed to approach running, once again, with the goal of chasing a feeling (strong) and not a time. Chicago 2018 was my version of a redemption race; the time wasn’t that much different from 2017, but I finished smiling and proud that I didn’t let one race experience stop me from ever racing the distance again.
After 2018 and aided by the pandemic’s canceled races, I entered a period of falling back in love with the process of running and the joy of running just for the sake of being able to run. There’s nothing like not being able to chase racing goals to figure out what it means to be a runner.
I ran Chicago again in 2021 to celebrate races being back on, but I began to question my own relationship with the distance again: Do I want to run marathons because I want to run them or am I doing it because it seems like everyone is running a marathon? Can I endure summer training for those fall races? Why do I keep coming back to the distance when I vow, each time, to never do another one?
Why am I like this?!
2022 was another year of exploration and of redefining my relationship to and with running. I didn’t realize this when I started running back in August 2012, but being a runner means being ok with how I interact with running changing over the years (sometimes between training cycles!). It also means learning how to be ok with having running goals that have absolutely nothing to do with the classic metrics of pace, time, and distance.
I ran 2 marathons in 2023, a feat I hadn’t done since 2016. My goal for both races was simple: Run for joy and run to finish feeling like wanting to do another one. But why do I want to do another one when my relationship to the distance has felt so complicated? It’s simple really:
I love how the marathon forces me to confront the ugliest parts of myself and challenges me to love myself beyond, despite, and in spite of those parts.
Those 16 weeks of marathon training and that one day of marathon racing are what help me be curious about my potential, believe in myself beyond a doubt, trust my strength, and love all the broken and flawed bits of myself. If I can show up for myself and continue showing up for myself, even when it gets really tough, I can do anything.
Maybe for you it’s a different distance or something completely outside of running. Whatever it is, I hope you find it and never let go. Even if and especially in those moments where you question your sanity.
Marathon History:
2014 Chicago Marathon
2015 Miami Marathon
2015 Berlin Marathon
2015 Chicago Marathon
2016 Chicago Marathon
2016 NYC Marathon
2017 Chicago Marathon
2018 Chicago Marathon
2021 Chicago Marathon
2023 London Marathon
2023 Marine Corps Marathon
16 weeks until Chicago! First post in a series of Marathon Musings done. Sometimes writing is just as hard as running; both are just as rewarding when done though.
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