I ran my first marathon in May. It went horribly. I followed a detailed training plan which included specific speed intervals, tempo runs, and two months worth of long runs on the weekends. I was all about the training, I didn’t miss a workout and actually enjoyed the early mornings and strategizing which way the wind was out of for the 15+ milers. I was on track to make my goal of a sub-4 hour marathon. I did everything right – followed every nutrition, rest, recovery rule. I was ready; a bit nervous and intimidated by the feat, but I knew I had put the work in and was trusting it would pay off. Race day came and with less than ideal conditions (warm with humidity) and I chatted with an older woman while we waited for the gun to go off. Not only had this 70+ woman run a marathon in almost every state, but I learned her daughter had done the Peace Corps in South America. It was a sign and I tried to calm my nerves.
The next 4+ hours were some of the hardest I’ve endured, right up there with climbing Mt. Fuji one summer in the middle of the night. I never felt like myself; never found my ‘groove’ and I felt like I was dragging a wagon behind me. By mile 8 I was telling myself to just make it to the halfway point. Soaked in sweat and dreading the next thirteen miles, I struggled to just make it one mile at a time. I wanted to quit. I thought about pulling over and asking to use someone’s cellphone to call my mom. Lame, I know, but when you’ve been hurting for 3 hours and you can’t see the end, your mind does crazy things. It was terrible and not what I wanted in my first marathon. Somehow, I finished. I missed my goal by a long shot – something I’m still trying to get over, but I finished. “Was it a good experience,” Bek asked me today. “No,” I replied, I didn’t enjoy it. But it was an experience; an experience I needed so I will know what to expect for next time. An experience that I wanted, worked for. An experience all my own and one that few people share.
Saturday will be October 1st and mile 5 of this new marathon I’m running. That’s what it feels like today at least. As Bek and I sat in her living room discussing the struggles, frustrations, and sacrifices of this Peace Corps service, I realized there are 26 months to this journey, ironically similar to the 26-ish miles I ran in May. Huh. As we talked more I pointed out how I really enjoyed training for the race and then race day was a disappointment. Similarly, I tried to mentally prepare for this PC race this past year: telling myself there would be lonely, hot, uncomfortable, and down-right hard days. But hey- it’s an adventure, an experience I so wanted. It would be tough, but I would get through it. I would cross that finish line. Today it felt different. Today, I had to ask myself how many miles I’m willing to suffer/struggle through. Today I had to ask myself if the daily struggle worth being able to say in two years that I had this experience, that I finished, that I endured. Today I wondered; for the first time I really wondered if I could do this; if it was worth it. I knew these thoughts and feelings were right around the corner as Bek and I made our way back to Sokode today. We traveled south, visiting and watching other volunteers in action last week then onto Lome where we stuffed ourselves with the amazing food the city has to offer before heading back north. But coming back on our 7 hour bus ride this morning, I knew today was going to be tough. It’s like coming home from vacation; but hotter, dirtier, lonelier, and a bigger let down. And as much as that sounds pretty simple and that I just wanted to be on vacation forever, it’s difficult to describe. All of our senses, emotions, feelings, thoughts are intensified – all the time- and that takes an emotional toll. So you go from a week of delicious meals, beautiful scenery, and running water –even forgetting you’re in Togo for a few moments. Then you get back, and it’s hard, you miss people, you don't know how to work here and there are still lots of questions about your purpose. Life is hard and it wears on your emotional and mental health. And today I asked why? Why the struggle? How long will it be hard? Big questions without answers…
But, I’m going to keep running. For today, I will keep running because I want to see what mile 5, 6, 7 and beyond look like. Just like in May, as exhausting as it is, I’m will keep putting one foot in front of the other, remembering to look up instead of down as I make it through another mile.
Say.You.Can.
ReplyDelete