Marathoning and Mental Prep

More than a few years ago, I “ran” the Chicago Marathon three times. I say “ran” because my efforts were more like a “jog”, but no one says they “jogged” a marathon.

The first was in 2001, less than a month after the 9/11 terrorist attacks. I won’t forget a training run I took that night. It felt like the most normal thing to do. I lived in suburban Chicago, underneath a flight path into O’Hare airport. The skies were quiet. A local church held an impromptu service in a local park, and I heard their singing as I passed in the early evening darkness.

The marathon on October 8^th, 2001, was subdued with an undercurrent of relief that all 35,000 or so of us could still run the race. The Van Halen song “Dreams” played when I crossed the start line. I hit “the wall” just after the White Sox ballpark. Not long after that, I saw my wife and kids on the side of the road, cheering. I hurt like never before, but that was enough to push me on. I’ll never forget rounding the final turn on Columbus Drive, seeing the finish line ahead of me, and thinking “I’m finishing this. I’ve run a marathon.”

I trained for 2002 but an ITB (iliotibial) strain kept me from running more than 100 yards or so, though I could walk for miles. I sat that one out and cried as I watched the start on TV from home.

I completed it again in 2003 but crashed around the halfway point. My legs cramped, my ITB cramped, and I jogged/walked the rest of the way. After I finished, my wife found me and hugged me, and I remember telling her “that hurt like hell.”

In 2004, I crashed in China Town. There, I saw my wife, my father, and my uncle enthusiastically cheering for me. I remember saying to them “oh god, I hurt”. I don’t know if they heard me, or heard me and ignored me, but they kept up their cheering. I finished that day, alternating walking and jogging. That was my last marathon, but to this day I cherish all three finishes, now more than 20 years ago.

I’ve heard more than one person talk about the AT being a marathon and not a sprint. I couldn’t agree more, and I’m hoping that “running” marathons will now help my head prepare to hike this trail. I know where the halfway point will come, but not where “the wall” will be, or how many times it might hit me.

Knowing I’ve, kind of, been there before, I’m hoping that will help me reach Katahdin when, I look forward to saying, “I’ve finished this. I’ve hiked the Appalachian Trail.”