Some of you may have noticed that my "Marathon-A-Month" article did not appear in last month's newsletter. Unfortunately, I had to drop out of the "monthly marathon club" because of injury. The club is still alive and well. Suzanne and Todd Byers have managed to keep the streak alive with consistent performances at the Rock N Roll in San Diego in June and the Deseret Morning News Marathon in Salt Lake City in July. Fantastic! Keep up the good work! They are true athletes and deserve all due respect and encouragement! As for me, the air was just a little too thin and I had to come down from the mountain.
Unlike Suzanne, who ran cross country for Long Beach State, and Todd, who has built up his endurance for years, seems too naturally fast, and predisposed toward distance running, I took up the gauntlet on a challenge. I've never run one fast marathon. This past Summer, I managed to damage my foot by overunning. I tried to run through a cold that led to two months of lung infection. I decided to run the monthly marathons anyway. Mind over matter. Well all that came crashing down. I started feeling "poorly" in April and, by June, was revising my "marathon schedule". I was running with my son in the mountains of Japan, when by legs started to tighten. Soon I was unable to walk. Eventually, I had to go to a clinic where I was diagnosed with a severe strain (in a very delicate area), and began using a cane. All because of my misperception of my abilities and a disregard for common sense.
I have just started light jogging again after a month of little physical activity. For a teacher on Summer break, this has been a bit of a letdown. I savor my morning runs, especially trails in the local mountains; usually surf every day; as well as walking and biking with friends. I had planned to run a marathon in Oregon and join other club members in Salt Lake City. I had planned on racing in the Kadase Festival in Japan and finding shorter races in the seven Western states I visited earlier this Summer. I planned on training with the Saturday marathon group as we stretched out our long runs. But now I can only pace them on the bike and offer them my former training routes, while I sit out the excitement of building for the Long Beach Marathon. What a drag! I hope you can learn by my experience. I hope I can learn by my experience.
I'm not sure which of these sabotaged my efforts, but this is how I spent the last several months.
I hope you can learn by my mistakes. As I distance myself from the preceding regimen, I have to ask "why? What was I trying to prove? Answers do seem to be emerging and, quite candidly, I don't like what I see. Too often in my life I've, literally, run away from problems. Sometimes I would run myself into a type of exhaustion. Too tired to deal with anything. Didn't have to "feel too much" either. Things don't get resolved but you collect a lot of medals...
Running can be as intoxicating as a drinking every day. I don't think a "positive addiction" is that much better than the traditional "negative addictions". There is a gal who runs in my neighborhood that looks like a skeleton. Hours running around the block will do that to you. Now she looks like death. All addictions seem to me to be a kind of "life avoidance. At least it was for me. When I was a younger man, I lived to surf. Every day I spent hours away from my wife and son. Not only was it neglectful and damaging to people I loved, but now I have to cope with skin cancer.
I'm not proud of this but, confession being "good for the soul, over the past few months, I would tell people of my "marathoning" and look for some kind of admiration. For a brief moment, I wouldn't be some aging old surfer, but a healthy, although a bit quirky, "athlete. I was never an athlete. Well, I knew better but I was looking for an edge. I was "special" because
I was doing something that others couldn't do. (Or too smart to do?) It turned out I couldn't do it either. As for the "quirkiness" of my excessive racing and marathons, I think we all want to feel a bit unique. "See what I can do.....I'm really something, aren't I!"
Well, that's my story and it is still unfolding. I began running with my Dad in 1968 (eight presidents ago). My first race was 3 decades ago. I hope my last race is 3 decades from now. When you can't run, you look back at those 2 or 3 miles you did three or four times a week with envy. You don't want to sit outside of Limericks and wait for your friends. You want to join them. Moderation in all things and, sometimes, when you've really trained to race well, you can even be "moderate in moderation. Good luck to you true athletes. You were blessed with ability and perseverance...Stay healthy, listen to your body. Godspeed. For a while, I'll just stick to the occasional 5K Fun Run if they've got a nifty t-shirt or if it's for a good charity.....See ya at the races!