26.2 Miles of Wisdom

I’ve used this blog to share my travel experiences, but for lack of other material, I’m going to talk about a journey of a different kind. Last Sunday, I took part in the Vancouver International Marathon (see some pictures here). This was my second time running Vancouver and my third marathon. It started out as another check box on the list of things to do before I die. But somehow it’s stuck and here I am over a year later, once more struggling to walk forwards down stairs. So as I limped my way from the bus stop to work, I couldn’t help but wonder why. Which made me think of something I’ve heard said many times about the marathon: “You can learn everything about yourself in 26.2 miles.” But I think there’s also a lot to learn (or re-learn) about life in general. So, in the spirit of this blog, I’m going to ramble on a bit about the lessons that I’ve learned and re-learned from pitting myself against this iconic race. I’ll apologies in advance if they’re vague, confusing, inconsistent, and contradictory. But after all, so is life.

Be prepared

As my good friend, and Jedi Master, Vince is fond of saying: “proper planning and preparation prevents a piss poor performance.” Though I was schooled as a Boy Scout from an early age, it never did stick. I tend to stumble through life with my eyes at my feet, wondering why my head is so sore. Thankfully, that’s generally enough to survive. Even when it comes to running, it’ll get me through a 10k. But the marathon is a whole different ball game. There’s so much to think about: clothing, water, gel, body lubricant (not kidding), race plan, pacing, route. And the margin for error is paper thin. One tiny mistake and this race will crush you. If you want to do something serious, you must think it through.

The best laid schemes o’ mice and men gag aft a-gley

Robbie Burns knew what he was talking about. Running a marathon can be one of life’s most fulfilling experiences. But what the marathon giveth, it can also taketh away. You can dedicate 6 months of your life to preparing for this race. You can follow a training plan down to the most minute detail. My god, you can even give up alcohol! But come race day, it’s in the hands of the marathon gods. And they can be a fickle bunch. I learned that the hard way last fall in Kelowna. I’d trained much better than I had for my first race. The weather was perfect and the course was flat. Things were looking good for our hero as we left the start line that cool morning. But I ended up limping across the finish line 30 minutes late, looking like I’d seen the business end of an AK47. That’s the marathon and that’s life. Planning is necessary, but on its own, it’s not remotely close to sufficient.

You get what you give

This is another truth that the marathon makes painfully clear. No one is going know if you hold back on those hard runs. Or decide to stay in bed rather than dragging your sorry ass out into the liquid sunshine of a Vancouver winter. You won’t get a ticket in the mail and you don’t have a teacher there to scold you. But come race day, good intentions don’t count for a thing. When my legs gave out on me as I climbed the Burrard Bridge on Sunday, I was paying the price for missing out on my hill training. All rationalization of how other training would transfer wasn’t worth a thing. The bridge said “that’s a nice story, but I get paid in hard currency.”

Be flexible

Pray that you never receive the praise Stephen Colbert recently bestowed upon George Bush: “He believes the same thing Wednesday that he believed on Monday, no matter what happened Tuesday.” The training schedule may say that you’re supposed to run hills on Wednesday. But if you twist your ankle Tuesday night, gutting through the workout the next day isn’t tenacity. It’s called stupidity.

Be yourself

We’re all dealt our own hand of cards. We can make the most of it, but we can’t change what the dealer throws our way. Kassahun Kabiso won this year’s race with a time of 2 hours and 18 minutes. Joanna Blank was the last across the line on Sunday in at time of 8 hours and 12 minutes. I’m quite confident that the greater accomplishment belonged to Joanna. The marathon is an intensely personal challenge. There may be thousands of others out there, but it’s really just you, the course, and the clock.

If you never fail, you’re not trying hard enough

If you want to know where you’re limits are, you have to push them. There’s a lot more to learn from a losing than there is from playing a game you’re going to win every time.

Serenity, Courage, and Wisdom

So much of life can be summed up in the prayer “Grant me the serenity to accept what I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” In the wonderful movie St. Ralph, Ralph frets that he can’t pray. His coach, and priest, tells him not to worry. “Everyone finds prayer at 20 miles”. 26.2 miles is a long way. If you’re racing it, there will undoubtedly be a healthy amount of pain involved. The hard part is knowing when you’re being smart by holding back and when you’re just copping out. Building that wisdom, more than anywhere, is where improvements lie.

Life’s a journey, not a destination

I stole that cheesy line from Steven Tyler. But it’s so true. And in the grand scheme of things, the race itself is just a tiny part of the whole experience. Sure, it’s the focal point of the last half year and the culmination of countless hours of training. But the real accomplishment, and for me the real reward, is in the training. The real marathon is getting yourself out of bed every Sunday to tour the city on foot. It’s getting through 6 months of Friday being the only “non school night” of the week. It’s sinking your legs into an ice cold bath to fend off the damage of a 5 hour training run. It’s learning to cope with incessant talk of heart rate monitors, pacing, mitochondria, aerobic base, lactic threshold, gels, technical fibers, foot turnover, and goal times. If you’ve gotten through all of that and made it to the start line, then you’ve reached your goal. The rest is just a chance to showcase it to the rest of the world and smile with your hands in the air as you cross the finish line.

When I decided to run a marathon the first time, it was a goal I hoped to accomplish and never thought for a moment that I’d be dumb enough to try it again. And I have a pretty healthy respect for my own stupidity. But I just ran my third and I can’t imagine giving it up. I’ve come to love the training process and the people I train with. I’ve been converted. Long Sunday runs are like church where I get to worship the beauty of this city and the joy of being healthy and relatively fit. And I get to do it with one of the most interesting and eclectic group of people you could hope to find. People from their 20s to their 60s and from all walks of life. People who have nothing else in common and would never otherwise cross paths. Most really have no business even liking each other. But somehow, we’re all brought and held together by this strange obsession. An odd cult indeed, but an entertaining one. It’s these people and the long weeks of preparation that have me hooked.

I know there’s more wisdom to squeeze out of this beast and I tend to need things driven into my head repeatedly before they stick. So I think there’ll be a few more runs in my future. I just hope that I get fa bit faster, a bit smarter, and have a good time doing it.