Y’all, the Grand Rapids Marathon is 10 days away and I’m riddled with nerves at the fact that the longest run I’ve done in my training has only been 16.3 miles. Sure, that’s far enough to run back and forth between my mom’s house and the Grandville Old Navy, but it’s still 10 miles less than a full marathon. And those last 10 miles are the ones that really kick your teeth in.
When I’m not exploding with anxiety that I should at least have a go at running 20 miles before the marathon, I’m slightly settled by knowing, at this point, we’ve done all we can to construct our bodies into something that can run a marathon. If it turns out we can’t, there’s always the Groundhog Marathon in February.
My fear is not so much I won’t be able to cross the finish line—I trust my determination and thirst for beer at the end will get me there eventually. As a proud pacer of #TeamOprah (4:29:20 marathon time), my fear comes from my tank running out around mile 18, forcing my valiant brother to carry the weight of the Oprah sign to the end (again). If I don’t make through the whole jog at a 10:15-minute mile, I’ll feel like I failed him, the runners who chose #TeamOprah as their pace, and the lead singer of The Killers, somehow.
Yet, if any of you expressed these same fears and concerns to me I’d say, “Failed?! Are you kidding? Look how far you’ve come! Look what you’re doing!”
So what if I haven’t run more than 16 miles straight since I started training? I’m here, I’m scared, but I’m going to do it anyways. That’s what matters, postpartum or not. The truth is, whether or not you manage to jam another ridiculously long run into your busy schedule before the marathon, that’s not going to be the run that determines your success or failure. To combat inevitable doubt and questioning if you’ve failed as a parent because you’ve spent more time running with your child than reading her Tolstoy, reflect on everything you’ve done up to this point:
For every time you dragged yourself out of bed when you would have emptied your life savings to sleep longer...
For every time you kept moving forward, even if it was in a haze on autopilot...
For every time you’ve persevered through—not just the epically challenging—but the mundane, boring parts of your days with enough enthusiasm to stand up straight...
And, especially, for the times you went for a jog of any distance when you really didn’t want to.
I think those times are just as important as a 20-mile training run.
During a marathon, your mind is going to get tired before your body does, and your mind will try to convince your body it’s just as tired and maybe you should stop. Walk. Try again another time. This is where all the mental strength you built from surviving everyday tumults (along with the hellfire that was 2020) comes in to play; to veto those thoughts of how nice it would be to quit.
And trust me, quitting is going to sound really nice when you’re in the depths of a marathon or sobbing in the dark because you can’t find your baby’s godforsaken Wubbanub pacifier.
I’ve found conditioning my brain not to quit, even when I desperately want to, is more helpful in completing a marathon than making sure I run 100+ miles every week. So, if you are in the worrisome pit of questioning whether or not your training has been good enough to complete this marathon, you’re not alone.
Let’s find out together.
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