Working It Out in the Long Run

It might be cliche to say that running is metaphor for life - all that talk about life being a marathon rather than a sprint, for example.  But the metaphor rings true for me, and perhaps rings most true when I think about the LTR - the long training run. 

My marathon training schedule has me doing 4 runs a week.  2 of them are relatively short (5 miles or less), 1 of them hits a medium distance (5-8 miles), and you end the week with your longest run. In the beginning of the training my long run was 9 miles.  Yesterday, I did my second longest training run of 18 miles.  These long runs serve many purposes, and as I have completed them I have begun to realize they are not only training me for the race, they are proving to be a training plan for life.

As my long runs get longer and more difficult, life has a tendency to do the same thing.  As I grow older the challenges that face me have higher stakes as well.  My actions in life have a great impact on those around me.  At 40, I am no longer living my life for myself like I was in my teens and twenties.  I have a much greater awareness of my responsibility to others.  I take my marathon training seriously so as not to injure myself on race day.  I take my actions in life seriously as not to injure myself or those I love with rash decisions, selfish actions, and poor choices. 

The long training run is my time to "practice" the marathon.  I can test out what clothes feel most comfortable, which shoes and socks repel blisters, when to stop for fueling breaks, and what to eat before and after the runs.  I would be stupid if I didn't fix mistakes on a long run, for it would make the next long run just as painful.  While we may not realize it, life also provides us with many "practice runs".  Everything we do is a learning experience.  Every mistake we make teaches us what not to do next time.  As with running, I would be a fool to continue hurtful behavior.  It will only prove to be continually painful as the years go by.  But while running mistakes provide almost instant and obvious pain (such as blisters, cramps, and muscle tears) that requires immediate remedy, the pain that results from our own life mistakes can often be buried and ignored.  Consequently, we don't always alter our actions and we continue to hurt ourselves and those around us. 

Happily, however, there is another similarity between life and the long training run - we almost always get another crack at it.  Last week my long run of 17 miles was disastrous.  Weather conditions were poor, my virus had not completely gone away, and my legs were screaming in pain from mile 13 on.  I literally hobbled that last mile and honestly thought I might never run again.  But, oh, what a difference a week made!  Yesterday my long run of 18 miles had me mentally on edge - but it was successful from start to finish.  I began to feel pain around mile 12, but learned from previous runs not to panic and to just keep an easy pace, while putting one foot in front of the other.  I am thankful that life provides a similar second chance (and third, and fourth, etc.).  I won't always make the right decisions, or act in the right way, but life will often give me a "do over".  It's never too late to fix past mistakes.  Just when we think we've screwed things up for good, around the corner lies another opportunity to try again and do better next time.  Kind of how every Monday brings a new long run. 

But what I love most about the long run is what it represents.  It is not only the run that lets you "work out the kinks", it is also the run that makes you stronger and stronger each time you experience it.  My body may be a wreck at the end of my long run, but by the time the next one rolls around I am stronger and ready for an even longer distance.  I can honestly say that life has made me a wreck sometimes.  But when I get through such challenges, it only makes me stronger to face the next ones.  And the beauty of the long run is that it is, in fact, LONG.  Yesterday I ran for over 3 hours.  In that amount of time I can work through a lot of things in my head - and that's where the line blurs for me between running and real life.  I can work through my struggles on my runs.  I can think about my latest plan to help Jayson in school, or help Katy with her confidence, or help Erik with whatever he needs.  I can think honestly about my own failings and how I can do better next time.  The long run makes me physically stronger but, more importantly, mentally stronger as well. 

Katy looked at my training schedule the other day and asked why the longest run I do is only 20 miles.  Isn't the marathon 26 miles?  I laughed and told her I wondered about the same thing myself.  After all, 6 miles is over an hour more of running. How on earth do I face that challenge the day of the race? But I told my daughter what other experienced runners have told me before - you have to trust your training.  The 16 weeks of running I have done before the race will have taught me everything I need to know.  It will hopefully have trained my body and my mind to go the entire distance.  And, ladies and gentleman, so it is with life.  I have 40 years worth of experiences that lay before me.  Life will throw me many more problems, worries, and crises, to be sure.  I will simply have to trust the training.  And I truly believe that it will all work out - in the long run...

My Greatest Blessing...

Life was pretty simple when I was 17 - I didn't think it was then, but of course now I know otherwise.  I was a senior in high school, getting good grades, enjoying time with my friends, and highly involved at school.  Looking back, I think I was pretty immature back then - perhaps no more than any typical 17 year old, but prone to the normal dramas and overreactions that many teenage girls have.  I had a boyfriend - a really sweet boy that I had dated during the summer, but who lived in another state during the school year.  I had no idea that my life was going to change that year.  In fact, I didn't realize how significant the change would be until years later.  You see, that was the year I met Erik, a very shy sweet kid one grade below me in school. 

I never would have known he existed had fate not put me in speech class with his 2 best friends.  The normal high school matchmaking schemes commenced and I found myself introduced to Erik one day before school.  Now, I'm not going to tell you I was hit with a bolt of lightening or anything - that would  be exaggerating.  But I will say I knew almost instantly that this boy had a special quality about him.  I couldn't put my finger on it at the time, but as I got to know him better I figured it out.  Erik was genuine.  There wasn't a conceited bone in his body (a rarity for teenage boys).  He was kind, polite, and had a quiet strength about him.  It certainly didn't hurt that he was cute (in that braces-wearing, late 80's hair kind of way).  But it wasn't his looks that grabbed me - it was his integrity. 

Fast forward a year and I was off to college, while Erik started his senior year in high school.  We had the sweet puppy love thing going and decided to stick it out long distance.  That Christmas brought news of my parent's divorce, and I think I clung to Erik like a lifeline.  I came home that summer and we were stronger than ever.  But the next 5 years proved to be an interesting test of our relationship, as we studied at different colleges.  To this day I marvel that we stuck it out.  We both took turns acting like idiots - trying out new personalities and new directions that is probably very normal for any kid in college.  Erik went a little too far in the delinquent direction, and I went a little too far in the nerdy, anxiety ridden direction, with random bits of wildness thrown in.  Although our relationship strained, we both grew a bit, and I suspect in the end we knew we had a good thing.  I know I never met anyone else like him.  I could never shake this feeling that he was the real deal - just a good person through and through. 

And so 15 years ago this week, we got married.  I'd love to say that's the end of the story, but it was truly only the beginning.  That little gut feeling I had way back as a stupid teenager proved to be the most valuable thing I ever possessed.  All those qualities in Erik that impressed me back then have turned out to the same qualities that make him nothing less than my absolute rock.  Life has thrown us too many curves to count in the last 15 years (cancer, a child with special needs, family strife, just to name a few), but we continue to weather them all with as much grace and dignity as we can.  And the older I get, the more obvious it becomes that I have hit the absolute jackpot when it comes to husbands.  Erik is the same guy he was all those years ago, only better.  He is humble, uninterested in status, full of integrity, trustworthy, kind, sweet, a hell of a father, and always looking to serve his family's needs before he serves his own.  And, yes, he's still quite the looker.  He is simply what many refer to as "good people". 

I don't know what I did to deserve him (and there are days I think I don't), but I am more grateful for him than for anything else in my entire life.  I know 15 years is a drop in the bucket (his parents just celebrated 50 years of marriage), but I suspect he and I are in the thick of it - with school age kids and their struggles (and schedules!), financial stress, and all the other pitfalls of middle age that can derail a marriage.  If it's even possible, I am happier now than I was 15 years ago - just older, grayer, and completely unable to fit into that impossibly small-waisted wedding dress.  Happy Anniversary, Erik.  And here's to many, many more...