One year ago yesterday, I completed my first marathon. It was a bucket list item for me, and while I won’t lie and say I loved every minute of the run, the sense of accomplishment at the finish line made all the time and energy I invested worth it.
If you’ve ever run in an organized event, then you know the event organizers usually hire professional photographers to capture mid-race and finish-line action photos. When I received mine, I sent them to one of my best friends, who said, “Wow! You look like the happiest marathoner I’ve ever seen!”
I was–because I was done. Haha.
That’s what I told her at first, but as I thought about it in the days after the race, I realized that I was so happy because crossing that finish line symbolized all the lessons I’d learned during the training.
Completing the marathon wasn’t just about running 26.2 miles on a given day at a given time. It was about what I learned and how I grew in the months leading up to that day.
Yesterday, on the anniversary of my first marathon, I got to thinking about what I learned, and I realized that these lessons apply to every part of life–especially now. So I thought I’d share them with you! Here goes:
Connection is everything.
I live on a dirt road, in an area with lots of dirt roads and lots of hills–which perfectly replicated the course for my first marathon. So I trained around my house, running those roads and hills three to five times each week. Naturally, when you’re training for a long run, you do lots of running. So I spent hours and hours on the roads, and I started to see the same people frequently. Soon, they started coming out of their yards to talk with me and ask me why I was running so much. We talked about our dogs and our running experiences and the weather and rattlesnakes. People would ask if I had enough water or needed a snack. I started to look forward to these little chats. They always brightened my mood, and especially so on days where the training felt tough. When I got to the start line of my race, I knew I had a little cheering section in my neighborhood. One friend joined me on her bike during one of my training runs, and she even brought me snacks. On race day, another friend volunteered at one of the aid stations, and her hugs on my way up and on my way back down meant EVERYTHING. After the race, once I got back to running, neighbors-turned-friends ask me how I’d done and how I’d enjoyed the race. Even now, a year later, I see these neighbors, and we chat. Especially as we slog through social distancing, the friendly waves and quick chats are a source of warmth, highlighting the importance of connection with other members of our community. If you find yourself feeling down or out of sorts, connect with someone. It doesn’t have to be a marathon conversation–just a quick phone call or text chat can boost your mood. Reach out. You never know how much you need it until it happens–and most likely, you’ll brighten someone’s day.
We need fuel.
My final training runs took place as the weather started to heat up, which meant I needed more water. Endurance training requires food, too–your muscles need sugar to function as you get into the higher mileage. So I’d always carry food and water, and stash extra supplies roadside. How does this apply to regular life? We ALL need fuel to stay healthy–physically and emotionally. Fuel your body with enough water and healthy food, and also fuel your mind and spirit. What fuels YOU? Is it running? Reading? Taking a walk? Knitting? Spending some quiet time alone? Chatting with a friend? Whatever it is, fit it into your days as often as possible. Whether you are finding silver linings in this social distancing stuff or you’re feeling off-kilter (or, like me, you alternate between the two), the more (and better) you fuel yourself, the better you’ll feel.
Watch out for rattlesnakes.
This advice is literal and metaphorical. Here in Arizona, the rattlesnakes start coming out in the spring. They slither onto the roads to sun themselves. On one of my runs, I saw a big brown rattlesnake and it really spooked me! The idea of seeing one is a bit scary, but when it’s within striking distance, sh*t gets real. In this case, I was able to wait for the snake to make its way off the road before I continued my run. The disruption was minor! In life, we experience disruptions, too. We don’t always know when they’re going to happen, right? But when they do, we choose how we respond. How do you choose to respond? No matter what, be kind to yourself and know that in each instance, we get to choose again.
Accept that some days are better than others, and that life marches on.
I grew up dancing–jazz, tap, ballet, gymnastics. I had so many wonderful experiences, including traveling, helping to run dance competitions, growing up with a wonderful friend group. But I didn’t have time for much else! I discovered my love for running during my senior year in high school, when I joined the track team. In college, my roommate and I would jog together, and after my second son was born I signed up for my first race. Since then–10 years–running has been a constant in my life. Especially during training, there are some mornings when I crave going for a run, and others when just don’t want to! Some miles seem to pass quickly, while others feel like such a slog. Sometimes I spend an entire run feeling like I’m fighting the wind, and sometimes I LOVE the feel of the breeze cooling me off. But whenever I complete a run, I feel so glad I did. As a runner, I experience the changing of the seasons, year after year. Just a couple of months ago, I was dodging ice patches. Just a couple of weeks ago, I was wiping spring mud off my shoes before coming in the door. Just like I did last year. Summer is just around the corner, and then it will be fall, and the leaves will be changing. Just like each workout is a chance to begin again, so is each day. The earth keeps turning, the seasons keep changing, and life goes on. This perspective has brought me a kind of acceptance that brings a greater sense of peace during trying times.
There’s almost always beauty around us.
In the two months leading up to my marathon, I ran the course a couple of times just to get a feel for where the hills were and how my legs would feel. Man, it’s a tough course! It starts at just over 5,000 feet elevation and ascends to 7,000 feet before coming back down to the start line. Much of the course winds through beautiful pine forests, and there’s a spot where you have to cross a creek. On one training run, I saw deer. Even on my near-home runs, I often spot tiny pockets of beauty: spring flowers blooming, a bright red cardinal lighting on a branch, a hawk soaring overhead. Maybe my legs and lungs were burning. Maybe I had sweat dripping into my eyes. Maybe blisters were forming on my feet. But I still appreciated the sights and sounds of nature. If you’ve got your head down, these are easy to miss! But if you’re looking for it, you can’t help but find it.
It’s okay if things don’t go to plan. Adapt!
Some days, things just don’t go to plan. And you know what? That’s okay. Despite our best intentions, there are circumstances outside our control. During my training last year, I’d planned a 17-miler for a certain day. My work that morning took longer than I expected, and it was soon apparent I wouldn’t have time to fit in my miles before picking up the kids from school. But I thought I’d go out and make the most of the time I did have. I got in about 7 miles before I saw the huge storm coming in. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it were just a rain storm, but there was tons of thunder and lightning, too. And I was at least 4 miles from home. I booked it, running as fast as I could to beat the storm (admittedly, I am terrified of lightning). Needless to say, I didn’t get in anywhere close to my 17 miles that day. At first, I was really grumpy about it. I was stressed that if I missed that long run and couldn’t get one in until the next week, I’d be behind in my training. But it is what it is, right? I decided to take advantage of the rest and adjust my training schedule, and everything was fine.
While I believe these lessons apply all the time, they’re especially relevant now. Running is a constant in my life. The backdrops have changed. I met my husband and we planned a wedding. We bought property and built a house. We had three kids. Our kids started preschool, elementary, middle school. They played sports. We watched different movies and TV series. We had family gatherings. Our parents had surgeries and cancer. Our siblings had children. And I ran. I still run … because no matter what changes, I know I can count on running to show me, time and time again, the lessons that keep me sane and grateful.