My Personal Best: Training for A Marathon

The Hypothermic?

A couple of weeks ago I ran a race aptly titled the Hypothermic Half Marathon. I'm training for a marathon now, and I'm well past the half-way mark, and my long runs are long ... so I figured I would like some company for this one, so I registered and ran.

It was fun! I chopped nine minutes off my previous Half Marathon speed (2:24:21 from 2:33:31 if you're interested). I had a hoot! I started off right next to the 2:30 bunny but I realized I was able to go faster and steadier on my own, so I did! But a couple of other women in my category ran faster than me, so I ended up third. But as the oldest woman in the race (over 500 people) I did well.

So? Why do I do this? Why do I run and train and sweat, and then write about it?

Reasons Why I Am Training For A Marathon

One main reason: because I CAN. And don't get me wrong, I'm not ignoring those who CAN'T. In fact, I think about them every day. I think about my cousin Becky, whose every day must be a marathon. I think about the Syrians I met last year, who spend their time figuring out how to rebuild their lives. I think about women everywhere who are too scared, too sick, too busy, too sad to go outside and play, and I've decided, after a lifetime of dedication to caring for and helping those less privileged than I, that I am gonna run to my heart's content, and hope that my happiness fills the world and makes it a better place. (Check this out if you really want to make a difference!)

Other reasons too:

because, weirdly, running teaches me about life. Training for a marathon actually shows me how better to live my life. How does that work? I have a goal these days, and that it to run 26 miles FAST. To get there, to succeed, I have to plan. I have to be determined, and dedicated, and disciplined. I have to sleep, eat, and drink right. I have to do my short runs and my long run every week, without fail, unless I'm injured or sick.

And how on earth do I do that?

With a cafe to run, a family to care for, a house to keep clean, and an online business to grow (so that I can start my nomad life in a few years, but more on that in a bit). Oh, and did I mention I'm hosting a Retreat this summer? So, yes, training for a marathon has allowed me to understand that there's one thing that makes the difference, given that the physical playing field remains the same (I am not sick, injured, or living in a dangerous place, or without food), and that is my attitude. The way I look at my life, or my training, or my family, husband, my cafe, my running buddies, even my dog, or my bank account ... the way I look at everything colours how I can perform. Not just at a race, but behind the counter at my cafe, on the phone with a student, hanging out on the couch with my husband.

Zen of Running?

What is this magical way, then, Yoda? It is the way of the run: to take one step after the first, and then the next and the next. To be fully conscious of the steps, of the way your body moves, how it fits into the space around it. Is my body tall and light? Am I crouching down? What is hurting? How can I fix it? Where is my breath? I need to breath slowly and surely ... in ... out ... in ... step ... step ... step ...

This weird and frivolous hobby has taught me that to be in the moment and to love what you are doing when you're in it, is the key to happiness.

Other reasons why I am Training for a Marathon: I love how my legs are getting bigger and bigger.

Secret Club

Also, I have discovered a secret club that I am now a member of. It's the club of other people like me who love to run. We love to play, and speed our bodies around town or country. It's a club where, even though I'm 61, and I don't wear Lululemon, and I don't go that fast ... when I pass a runner in Montreal, Toronto, Lisbon, Italy .... Greece ... we give each other the secret nod and let each other know we know. It's a club where I can chat about long run nutrition for at least a half hour to someone I've never met.

And don't forget the bling! When I'm running a race, people I don't know high-five me. "You got this! Oui, Madame!" At the end, I get my lovely medal, and feel great, and that sense of accomplishment fills my heart. I know I've done something. Nothing too controversial, or too demanding, like getting involved with refugee politics, or being a midwife, or trying to change the world. Just a race, one step at a time, one breath at a time, one smile at a time.