Over the course of about 18 hours, I've watched the 2009, 2010, and 2011 NYC marathons, courtesy of Universal Sports. Yes, it's been an exciting weekend. But it's exactly what I needed to focus myself for what's coming up in 9 short weeks when I will run the Disney Marathon (with a big PR in mind...I'll reveal that closer to race day). Before confining myself to my couch to watch world class athletes, I completed my longest run since Boston of 15 miles on a perfect Fall day. During this run, I reflected on my own sports history more than ever. Through a few examples, including somewhat of a personal anecdote, I'd like to explain why I believe running the marathon is much more of a mental than physical undertaking. Some of you who know me now are familiar with my racing method of negative splitting (running the 2nd half of the race faster than the first) which is basically every marathoner's goal aside from a PR because it helps to ensure they will not hit a wall (or at least run through it) and finish strong, confident, and with a smile. Although running is in my blood (my dad and aunt were both very good long distance runners) and I do train hard, when it comes to race day for a distance of 26.2 miles, my biggest ally is my mental strength. Several years ago, my mind was my worst enemy, and we'll get to that. But first, a side note for people who have never done a marathon and know for an absolute fact, like we all knew Santa was real when we were 4 years old, that they could never do one...
I've had many friends and acquaintances tell me "there's no way I could ever do a marathon", and my honest opinion is that's bullshit. Clearly you haven't seen The Biggest Loser, where people who weighed 400 lbs and had diabetes 4 months ago finish a marathon. Ok, they may not be setting any records, but if these people can "do a marathon", then my 28 year old friends who run 3 miles on the treadmill a couple of times a week and have an appropriate BMI number can CERTAINLY do it! What it comes down to is #1 you have to WANT to do it and #2 you have to BELIEVE you CAN do it. Unless you are seriously physically handicapped, those are the only 2 obstacles that stand in your way. This is an example of how a good attitude and confidence are two of the most important ingredients for beginning runners trying to finish 26.2 miles.
Now, to further illustrate my point, I'm going to take a little trip down memory lane, as I did on my long run a few days ago. For about 5 or 6 years, my biggest passion in life was swimming. It all started at a high school state meet, when I was invited by our coach as an alternate for the relay when I was in 7th grade. I think she took like 6 alternates that year, which was clearly unnecessary since there are 4 legs on a relay, but it was at that meet that I fell in love with the sport. Of course I didn't realize the kind of work that I would have to put in to be moderately decent. I quit my other love soccer, and began swimming year round the next year. Many of the other kids on the club team had been swimming since they were like 6, so clearly I was a few steps behind, and I never really caught up. It wasn't for lack of commitment and training though. I put in the 9x a week workouts, swam for 3.5 hours on Christmas Eve and New Years Eve (what we called garbage yardage), and made my coaches believe during test sets (supposed to predict your times in big meets) that I was about to break through. Although I gradually got better, I never broke though. Swimmers I would smoke or at least keep up with in practice, finished literally lengths of the pool ahead of me at meets. Looking back on it now, I had MAJOR mental issues w/ swimming...
1) I didn't understand how to pace for my best race. I either never got in a rhythm or went out way too fast and died.
2) If I was passed by even one swimmer towards the end of the race, I basically gave up.
3) I had a stash of past heat sheets (showing competitors times vs mine) under my bed that I studied sometimes instead of US History...that was incredibly psychotic, I know.
4) Most importantly, I had probably the lowest self esteem of any girl on the planet. I didn't understand my body or what it could do, and I had absolutely no faith in it.
Running for me is completely different. I certainly don't train as much as many other marathoners with similar times as me or as hard as I did when I swam, but mentally I am a fierce athlete and competitor. Part of it may be that I've matured and actually like myself now, a bit can probably be attributed to the fact that I don't put as much pressure on myself (there are no college scholarships on the line for a 27 year old, and I generally set 3 goals per race for myself, the first of which is get to the finish line), and I have a very good relationship with my body. What I mean by that is I know when I need extra rest, I have a pretty good understanding of when I need to fuel/ refuel before and during training and races, and I basically only train and race by feel. There's still that psychotic girl inside of me who becomes obsessed when she puts a Garmin on her wrist. But when I am in a race, I tap into this mental zone I never knew existed. The first half of the race is all about finding my pace and settling in for a bit. I will probably exchange a high five or two or ten with spectators, average 3 fist pumps/mile, and smile for the half marathon photographer. You know, let myself get a little loose and have fun before the action begins. (Please note that when I swam, I was all business all the time. There was no fun involved, unless I had a good race, in which a moderate celebration and trip to Wendy's were in order.) But right around miles 15 to 18 (depending on how I'm feeling), the eye of the tiger is activated, as I hone in on my goals for the race.
Sure I've had some critical fails in races (i.e. Boston 2010 when I went out too fast and thought not drinking or eaten anything after mile 10 was a good idea since I had a tummy ache), but for the most part, I run smart and don't allow myself to experience "the wall" for very long. Trust me, it's there, but I don't let my mind acknowledge it for more than a song on my iPod. It's like I dissociate myself from the fact that I've already run about 22 miles and focus on the last 4, reminding myself of my goals. I think this kind of thing can only happen if you run a smart race. For any of you who watched the NYC marathon today, Mary Keitany (spelling?) did NOT run a smart race. Heroic? Yes, she was trying to do something absolutely phenomenal, but running alone for 25 miles with 10 other women who are just as talented and have trained just as hard as you, not smart. (Keep in mind, this woman still ran a 2:24 marathon or something crazy, so clearly she is doing something right. But she lost. End of story.) The 2 women who beat her pushed each other the whole way, got gradually faster, and had a kick at the end to pass Mary who had led almost the entire race. If Mary would've stayed back with them and run more conservatively, she may have come out victorious. I was sad for her, but I'm sure she was more sad. Even for the elites, the mental game is such an essential component to a successful marathon. My personal evidence in running: I was much better trained for Boston 2010, but ran a better time and better race in 2011 with my longest long run of 15 miles. The training wasn't where it should've been for me to have a good race, but I felt good that day, understood the course, and knew when to kick things into gear for a second half over 8 minutes faster than the first (which is not typical for Boston).
Whenever I look back at my swimming career, as I did on my most recent long run, I'm thankful it's part of the past. It was filled with a lot of disappointment and unfulfilled goals, but as I continue to experience what I hope will be a long marathon career, I remember that unassured, unconfident, and understandably unhappy girl, as I now run through every finish line with a smile. She's a reminder of how far I've come as an athlete and a person and is one of the reasons I push myself so hard come mile 15. I think she is proud of her newfound mental ally and to see her years of training finally paying off.
