Struggle = Progress

I ran 6 miles today. This was the first “long run” of my half marathon/marathon training. Because it was titled “long”, I went into with the same trepidation with which I go into all long runs.

Gotta fuel just right

Gotta get enough sleep

Gotta run slow

Gotta have my lucky socks

Gotta have my water bottle cold

Gotta have all my electronic trackers charged

I even had minor butterflies in my stomach as we drove toward the trail where we going to be running. The weather was perfect so I had that going for me. I had everything I needed (except for the sleep) and since it was a trail run, I knew I would keep it slow to avoid tripping over a root and eating dirt.

All of this worry and preparation for a 6-mile run when I just ran 5 on Wednesday. Why was 6 so scary? It seems silly in retrospect.

I remember from this process 2 years ago that the mental training was just as important (if not more important) as the physical preparation that I did. Blocking out the voices of doubt…not letting a new route or the presence of lots of hills change my goals or my confidence…learning to be flexible so I could adjust to the unexpected.

For me, distance training and running are all about learning to deal with the unexpected and never has the phrase one at a time meant so much as when I am in the midst of training for a distance race. Last night, I put the entire running plan into a grid so I could keep track of what I’m supposed to be doing. This is one of those tasks that must be done because panning is part of the process. I really struggle to keep everything in perspective while I’m doing it, though. Once I get to the week with the 20 mile training run (even though it is 4 months away) I always feel my pulse quicken and my face gets hot. This task involves looking at each step and the end game – this can be overwhelming for me as I prefer the trees to the forest.

At this stage, I find that it’s best to look at my training schedule one WEEK at a time.

So I inserted another column to my table and added up the weekly mileage for this week and next. By 8am tomorrow, I will have completed 5 runs covering about 20 miles this week. Same number of runs for about 21 miles next week. I know that that’s a lot, but I also know that I can do that because I’ve done it a dozen times before. Scanning the rest of the plan, I see that over the next 21 weeks I have only three or four 30+ mile weeks. Most weeks are in the low twenties…even when we get around to training for the marathon. I’ve already run 17 miles this week with 3 more miles to go and I’m feeling ok – proof that what I think is true is actually true – I can run 20 miles a week. A few higher-mileage weeks here and there should be manageable as my fitness increases.

Another thing that I remember from this process two years ago is that fatigue inevitably sets in. Right now I’m in a honeymoon phase. Fall weather has arrived (which is like Christmas for a Memphis runner), we are at the beginning of the training cycle so I’m feeling excited. That lasts for a few weeks.

Then I have to start looking at my training one RUN at a time.

I have to say things like this to myself:

What have I committed to do today? 
Don’t look at tomorrow and for goodness sake DON’T…for any reason…look at the long run mileage at the end of the week. 
Just take care of your hills, Fartleks, and tempo runs. 
You can look at your long run the night before you do it.
You can have tunnel vision...its OK.

And then later on, there are the really long runs. These all accompany 2-3 speed, hill, or tempo workouts in between each long run. Oh yeah…and then there is the life that one must live when not running -- family, work, school, etc. It all has to get done and it gets difficult toward the end.

This is when the only way to train is one MILE at a time or one STEP at a time.

I can plan all I want….the eating, the sleeping, the mapping, and the scheduling around everything else, but 20 miles is nothing but sheer determination on legs. It’s only tenacity that gets me through. It's not as if  I have to do this. No one is making me. It’s not my job. It’ll take me longer to run 20 miles than it would take me to watch Titanic. So why bother?

Because I need to do difficult things. 

And I really need to do this difficult thing. I want to complete the race. Five years is a long time to have a goal and continue to fail at it.  And just as much as I need to complete the race, I need to complete the training. I want to know what it feels like to be so physically exhausted that I can’t lift my foot up onto the curb. I want to feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. I guess I want it to hurt a little. Because then, I will know what it's like to achieve something that I had to really reach for instead of just grabbing at the low-hanging fruit.

I’ve lived a privileged life so the low-hanging fruit has been abundant. I can’t begin to know what it is like to grapple with oppression, discrimination, disability, grave illness, or marginalization – real struggle. Creating challenges for myself is my meager attempt to connect with those who struggle with things that they did not choose. It’s weak…but it’s what I can do.

Frederick Douglass said, “If there is no struggle, there is no progress,” about a fight that was (and still is) much more important than me finishing a silly road race. But it definitely rings true for any test we face – including a marathon. Whether it’s one week, one day, one mile, or one step at a time, it’s the only way to move forward.

And forward is where I’m going.