i did the first 20-miler of my training today (with another scheduled for 2 weeks time). they say that if you can run 20, you can run 26 – still, i’m nervous about the fact that i haven’t been able to do any hills, and that beachy head marathon bills itself as “not a race, but a personal challenge event” with a total ascent of 3500 ft, plus stiles, bridges, cattle grids and several flights of stairs. eeep!
so i’ve begun mentioning to people at work that i’m going to do this crazy marathon thing. which inevitably begets the same question every time: why?
to which i don’t have a really good answer. i mean, i like running and everything (well, i like the post-running bit where you get to *stop*, at least.) but why the committment to something as all consuming, frequently painful, and potentially fraught with disappointment? why have i felt compelled to do this, not once, not twice, but three times?
just what am i trying to prove?
and in being forced to examine my motives/motivation, what does it say about me?
for some reason, people seem to find running a marathon impressive. and while being able to lay claim to something very few people ever do makes for good cocktail chatter, the fact is i also feel a bit of a fraud getting any kind of ego boost out of it. i mean, almost everyone *can* run a marathon. i know what you’re thinking (”no way!”), but yes, they really can. i remember going down to fourth avenue in brooklyn early on a sunday morning to watch my boss run past at the seven mile mark the year that he was in the nyc marathon. i remember being astounded at the incredible array of body shapes going by. old folk, young folk, heavy folk and skinny folk – almost none looked like the lean, stringy marathon runners i had envisioned in my head. my curiousity was piqued – and when i subsequently learned that oprah winfrey, of all people, had run the chicago marathon, i thought, “well, hell, if she can do it, surely *anyone* can do it.” so i looked up a schedule, started training, and found myself crossing the finish line of the nyc marathon the following year. so yes, almost anyone can run a marathon, in spite of the general public perception. there’s nothing particularly special or skillful about it, so that brief flash of egotism when someone says, “wow”, is quickly followed by a self-deprecating disclaimer.
and while finishing a run feels great, and marathons can be fun… they’re also a special kind of self-imposed torture. i’ve had to drain fluid from under my toenails with a hot needle, and just this afternoon spent several hours on the couch with stomach cramps after trying a new energy bar during my run – not glamourous. in the last marathon i ran, i suffered ten long miles of excruciating knee pain to the finish line and couldn’t walk the next day. and for all that, the balloons and cheering are all over with in a matter of hours, and then you go home with a cheap medal and a bag of fruit and bagels, to celebrate with a hot bath and a cold beer. there’s no big parade for finishing, no fireworks, no key to the city. in essence, there’s precious little recognition for a helluva lot of work.
and then there’s the obvious: my constant, incessant need to set challenges – big, bold, improbable things to throw myself at. but there’s no bravery in it – rather, looking deeper, perhaps an attempt to face failure on my own terms. where so much of life is left to the elements of fate (health, luck, weather, family), it’s easier to achieve success when you determine the playing field. a false sense of accomplishment.
still, i will admit there is *something* vaguely noble about it – a tribute to the endurance of spirit, if you want to get schmaltzy. or, alternatively, the human impulse to test one’s limits and resist complacency. the impulse for growth and experience. when faced with exhaustion and pain and the easy way out, it is impossible not to learn something about yourself – to dig deep and ask yourself, how badly do you want it? are you committed to your goal no matter what the physical and emotional cost? when confronted with an obstacle that seems insurmountable (like the wall at mile 18), how do you respond? what kind of mettle are you made of? what will it take to get you through? what are you trying to prove?
for all the things a marathon is not (elite, pleasurable, glamourous), it *is* this: a personal challenge event. and so there are probably as many reasons for running a marathon as there are marathon runners. each person sets their own test, each person takes away their own lessons, their own big or small triumph – whether that be just getting to the starting line in the first place, or crawling hands and knees over the finish.
and it’s *that*, that immeasurable, inexplicable, invaluable experience that keeps me coming back.
so when they ask me, “why?”, my only response can be, “why not?”
the tragically hip – long time running
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beachy head marathon
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