Running toward Healing: My Marathon Training Experience
The 15-mile excursion furthered my appetite for rugged adventures. Little did I know, this was just a taste of the wild escapades that awaited me in the summer of 2023.
Just as night fell, a message buzzed in, I felt a mix of excitement and nerves as I read it. Doubt lingered, wondering if I was up for what my friend had in mind.
It was June, and I had just signed up for a marathon in October. It was time to embrace the intense commitment, so when my friend extended the invite to run up a mountain with her and her friend, how could I resist? It was the ideal chance to bolster my training.
The three of us began our journey bright and early, equipped with hydration vests and a strong sense of determination. Our destination was Colden, one of the peaks in the renowned Adirondack 46er challenge. For those unfamiliar, this challenge involves conquering, you guessed it, 46 majestically arduous mountains.
The ascent seemed to continuously unveil more difficulty. It’s muddy, rocky terrain kept our gaze downward, cautious with every step. Allowing ones eyes to glance up at towering trees was a dangerous game. We were able to run a majority of it, but climbed several steep stretches. The summit was cloudy but it didn’t matter much to me. I was elated, filled with proudness over what I had just achieved. The 15-mile excursion furthered my appetite for rugged adventures. Little did I know, this was just a taste of the wild escapades that awaited me in the summer of 2023.
Freshman year of college I wrote in my journal the goal to run a marathon before the age of 30. When my partner of two years, whom I’d been living with, and I broke up, I felt compelled to finally sign up for one. Truthfully, the urge was prompted by a fear of falling into a broken hearted rut. I knew the serotonin boost and the commitment would help alleviate sadness. It was by far the right choice. And I look back with pride that at a low point my solution was to run a marathon. It’s October now and the marathon is just around the corner. It’s astonishing to think how, in such a brief span, this dedication profoundly changed me.
Completing my first solo run of sixteen miles was an incredibly gratifying moment, marking the onset of an emotion I’d be chasing (literally) throughout the entire summer and autumn, and I’m sure the chase will persist even after the marathon. Each month as the mileage amped up so did my confidence. I’ve always enjoyed running, but typically five miles was my longest run. During the summer I finally grasped the pure addiction of long distance running.
Reflecting on my past, oftentimes I would look toward travel, or moving as a means to alleviate boredom, depression, pain, loneliness, etc. I was running away, and as we all know, that’s not a sustainable solution. Yet, when you’re in that state of mind, clarity can elude you. It becomes a challenge to discern whether these wants are merely a means of escapism, or if they genuinely would serve me. Through training clarity emerged. These thought patterns of escapism lessened. I discovered a new source of contentment, one that didn’t require thousands of dollars or complex logistical planning, unlike traveling or relocating. The boredom and loneliness subsided with the training and all that it encompassed: exploring new routes, refining my nutrition, and consequently, enhancing my cooking skills, along with enjoying runs with both old and new friends. I also gained a new love for my alone time. I had a few runs over 15 miles that were entirely alone, where I aimed to keep the headphones away, being present with my body and thoughts. I was learning to take the time to know myself, to figure out my needs. My aspirations.
One aspect of running I truly appreciate is the mental fortitude it builds. According to a study from the National Library of Medicine, which delved into pain perception and processing among endurance athletes, elite soccer players, and non-athletes, it was discovered that, “Endurance athletes, including cross country skiers and long-distance runners, exhibited higher tolerance for cold pain in comparison to both soccer players and non-athletes. Additionally, endurance athletes reported experiencing lower pain intensity compared to non-athletes” (Pettersen, Aslaksen, et al.).
Recently, I encountered my ex with his new girlfriend. Initially, my heart sank, and my body trembled in response. However, I took a moment to gather myself and reminded myself, “I just ran 22 freaking miles last weekend. I have the strength to move through this pain and become stronger because of it.” Physical pain and heart break are quite different but the mindset to get through both are very much the same. Running long distances involves a level of commitment to keep going despite doubt, hurt, fear, and sometimes pain. And it also involves being able to recognize when to pause, give yourself a break, and let your body recuperate from the strain. This allows for processing and trusting that time will ultimately heal.
I couldn’t help but draw a parallel between the increasing distances I was running and my heart and mind moving on.
