Lessons from training for a hard thing
Sometime last fall I got it into my head that I could run a half marathon (the longest I’d ever run previously was 10K). The plan I’d been following that summer had me doing a 14K long run; a half marathon is only 7.1K more than that! If you can do 14, you can do 21.1, right? This is math.
Next thing I knew I was signed up for a spring half marathon in a little town north of Toronto, on a course described as “fast, flat, and scenic,” only one of which is of particular interest to me. Since December, I’ve been following a training plan (I use the Runna app)1 and 487.4km of training runs later, it’s finally race weekend.
By the time you read this on Monday, I’ll be finished the run (I’m slow but not that slow), and I’ll have post-race reflections next week. For now, I thought I would share some thoughts about putting my almost 50-year old, non-athletic body through this process, which, I admit, I have questioned the soundness of on many occasions.
Throwing yourself into a new challenge and learning all you can about your new hobby are undeniably energizing things. It’s like NRE: new relationship energy. You’re happy to spend most of your waking minutes (and sleeping minutes, too) thinking about this thing and it’s fun to feel so absorbed, curious, and focused. I think those of us who are (ahem) middle aged and beyond still need this in our lives.
It’s OK to decide it isn’t actually going to be a long-term hobby. As I hit the end of this training block, I’m pretty sure I won’t be doing this again anytime soon, or, god forbid, trying to step up to a marathon. I still want to keep running, but I don’t think these long distances and the commitment they take, especially as a slower runner, are sustainable for me. Just because I let it take over my life for 6 months doesn’t mean I have to do it forever.
If you have a (waves hands) troubled relationship with your body, intense physical training isn’t going to magically erase decades of strife. In fact, your body (especially your 50 year old body!) will respond in plenty of unexpected and sometimes unwanted ways and even though you can intellectually appreciate all it’s capable of, you might still hate it sometimes. Doing something this hard also means you have to think about your body all the time (eating, hydration, rest, random aches, strength, weakness, energy, etc.), and as a woman trying to undo a lifetime of toxic diet culture, this may not actually be all that fun or helpful. But YMMV on this one.
This is a good opportunity to remind yourself that no one cares… in the best way possible. What I mean is, no one else is paying much attention to your pace or progress or times or whatever it is that means a lot to you in the process. People are mostly thinking about themselves and despite your worries that others are judging you, mostly they’re barely noticing you. This is great news, and a great reminder that in most areas of life, you don’t need to worry that much what other people think of you (because they aren’t).
It’s nice to share things you aren’t that good at. Point 4 notwithstanding, a lot of people appreciate seeing average folks be mediocre at things. After all, it’s a little depressing to be bombarded with videos of talented people doing amazing things when you just want to see MooDeng roll around and yell. So, even if you’re pretty objectively bad at your hard thing, you can share photos and videos, too.
Perhaps after the race I’ll have more profound insights for you, but as I picture myself lying on the couch I imagine they’ll be things like “compression socks are great” and '“Advil is wonderful.” Thanks for reading!
What I’m reading: Long Island, by Colm Tóibín. This is the sequel to Brooklyn and although it’s a slow-paced book, I can’t wait to find out what heppens next to protagonist Eilis.
What I’m watching: Just started The Stolen Girl on Disney+. Intrigued so far!
I’m not affiliated with Runna in any way, but all users can offer a discount code for 2 free weeks: RUNNAD628HKC