I'm currently training for the Long Beach Half Marathon, which is only 4 Sundays away, on October 7th. As I train for this race, I can't help but reflect on running and training for my first half and my first full. Not only that, but this Thursday is my one year running anniversary, so I've been extra-reflective lately.
After running a couple miles here and there for a few years, with a couple 5Ks sprinkled in, I picked up running a year ago last August. I had always wanted to be a runner, but I lacked the motivation to become one. After five years of graduate school and searching for ways to cope with the stress and anxiety (yoga has been invaluable, but I needed something more strenuous), I turned to running. To motivate myself, I signed up for a 5K, a Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving. I began running with my friend Sam, and while training for the 5K, decided to up the ante and join her for the Southern California Half Marathon, which was in January. I had never run farther than about 4 miles, and running 13.1 was unimaginable. And I really didn't have a "running" background. Even though I was physically active in high school, I was a diver, which didn't necessitate endurance or stamina. And despite continuing to exercise in college and in graduate school, running didn't become a habit.
Training for my first half marathon was intimidating, but exciting. I can't describe how, after every long run, it felt so cool to think about how I'd run farther than I've ever run in my life. The first time I ran 5 miles was the day before I defended my dissertation prospectus. After telling my adviser, I'll never forget that she asked "Don't you feel mighty"? I did indeed, and not just because I became ABD (all but dissertation). I can't remember the first time I ran 6 miles, but I do remember the first time I ran 7. Sam and I were on a running/walking/biking path on the way to the Back Bay. We passed the sign announcing we were now in Newport Beach, and even though it was only 2 miles from home, we relished the feeling of running to another city. I wore a Camelback for that run (I was testing out hydration packs and borrowed Sam's), and it rained off and on. We ran nearly the entire side of the Back Bay, and at the end of 7 miles, Drew came to pick us up.
When we ran 8 miles, we ran to the beach. We took a hilly route, which wasn't the best idea, but we were rewarded with a wonderful beach view when we finished. I ran 9 miles and 10 miles at Drew's mom and dad's in southwestern Virginia. It was grueling and lonely. The hills were nothing like the ones I was used to, and I didn't have Sam to talk to. Since there had been bear sightings in the area, Drew followed me in the car, stopping every mile or so and waiting for me to catch up.
When Sam and I ran the half marathon, after the 10 mile mark, every passing mile didn't go unnoticed, as we pointed out that it was the farthest I'd ever run (she ran this particular half marathon two years prior). At the start of the half, I told her that I was thinking about finding a full marathon around the same time as the Big Sur Marathon (which she would be running) so that we could continue training together. The marathon had always been a far fetched goal, and I felt that this would be a good time to do it, what with no kids and a flexible schedule. By the end of our race, even though my feet hurt and I could not imagine running another 13.1 miles, I decided to sign up for the OC Marathon.
Marathon training is a blur, but we noted each time we ran farther than we'd ever run. Some days were good running days, and some days were a challenge. Regardless, every one was a tremendous accomplishment. Our perspective shifted too; 5 mile runs became short runs, 10 miles were easy runs, and even a half marathon was no longer intimidating.
After the OC Marathon, I wasn't sure if I'd ever run a full marathon again. I'm still not sure. But 2 days after the OC, I was already registered for the Long Beach Half and the Surf City Half (in February). With a 5:46 marathon time, I decided that working on a half marathon PR (personal record) was a manageable and attainable goal (I'm shooting for a sub 2:30 time). Training for a marathon is time consuming, and I knew I wouldn't be able to dedicate the time to bettering my marathon time.
This time around, training for the half is still rewarding, even though I don't finish a long run by noting that it was the farthest distance I've ever run. Instead, I think about how much easier training is this time and how much faster I can run. A year ago when I began running, it took me about 14 minutes to run/walk a mile. Now I run between a 10:30 to 11 minute mile, and a 12 minute mile on long run days.
More importantly, I've developed a love of running. I never thought I'd say that. Running has become a habit, and I miss it when I go longer than a week without doing it. I get antsy. I can't sit still. I feel anxious, and I want to feel the wind on my face and the burn in my legs. And having a love for running is a lot more important than any PR.
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