
This post is combined, even though it, sort of, has two topics.
I have embraced the process of revealing to people this week that . . . this is me . . . and I'm training for a marathon. As I've said before, this has brought on waves of panic with the realization that now that I've announced it, it's not just me that will know if I fail. That being said, there have been two resounding themes in people's response:
- Amazingly sweet support and excitement (I've saved all of the responses in a special folder to motivate me when I need it down the road).
- With a few exceptions, people's responses have contained, somewhere in them the statement: "That's so so great, but I DON'T want to run a marathon."
Number 2 got me to thinking, why do "I" want to run a marathon? I'll try to explain:
The first time I thought about the experience of running a marathon was in college when my good friend (and future roommate) Beth went home to Chicago for a weekend to run the Chicago Marathon. I remember being fleetingly impressed at what it must have taken to achieve that, but she was always a runner when I knew her, so I really didn't think that much of it.
After that, Oprah grabbed onto the marathon idea and talked about it for an entire season as she trained to run one. (I am a die-hard Oprah Show fan and am fairly sure I have only missed a handful of shows, ever. Don't judge.)
Since then it's been a pretty common thing for someone I am acquainted with to be training or for it to be on TV. It seems like it is somewhat "the thing to do."
I've just always taken more than a passing interest in hearing about people's marathon experience, like it grabs at me a little more than it does for most people, and I feel like it's something that's built inside me over time.
Last January, I went with my family to cheer on my sister-in-law, Farris, when she ran the PF Chang's Half Marthon. I was looking forward to going, but was surprised by how emotional I felt, watching all of the people trot by as they were achieving their goal. It made me want to cry, and I felt so much admiration. I remember telling Rick on the way home how amazing I thought it was. He said, "well, you could do it too." Totally true, but I felt like, in some way, I'd already failed because I'd thought about doing it for SO SO long but just never got my act together enough to do it. I think that conversation planted a seed.
From Non-Runner's Marathon Trainer:
"You find another side of yourself when you actually put your heart into something. That is one of the things that makes marathoning special. It's one of the few times when you actually meet the challenge of doing something that is probably the most physically and mentally difficult thing you've ever done. It is maybe one of the few times you truly approach your potential."
"Along with the need to grow by testing and expanding our personal limits, we humans desire and value what psychologists call "peak experiences." Peak experiences are positive happenings that have a profound and lasting impact. They are life-changing, and in retrospect are often considered the finest moments of our lives. They are experiences we value and memories we cherish. Some people actively seek peak experiences, but most of us rarely get beyond weddings, births, and the occasional vacation."
That pretty much sums it up. With no more weddings on the horizon and no babies on the way, I want to do something cool . . . to learn something about myself and, mostly, to prove to myself that I can do it.
Thank you
I wanted to take a minute and comment on how amazingly lucky I am to have a life filled with amazing people! I feel as if my heart is overflowing with love from all of the advice, well-wishes and support I've received from everyone as I begin this journey. I really cannot express how much your words mean to me. Bella says thank you too--Bark, bark!!