“It’s a Marathon, Not a Sprint”

My Sentiments on this Phrase as an Actual Marathon Runner

Visualize with me for a moment. You’re a recent college graduate and contributing member of society. Congratulations. You’ve found your way into a large corporation doing mindless and tedious work with barely livable wages.You’re bright-eyed and thrilled to be employed while simultaneously questioning every major decision you’ve made in your life thus far. Just as one more project completely unrelated to your area of study comes across your crowded desk, a boss you barely get face time with says, 

“it’s a marathon, not a sprint.” 

Getting back to reality now, I’m curious to know if anyone has ever casually said this phrase to you. Maybe it was an academic adviser referring to your failed college course in bio-engineering. Or maybe it was a settled-down married friend trying to give you relationship advice. Whatever the circumstances, what was your initial reaction? Was it encouraging? Were you annoyed? 

Did it stop and make you think, ‘Has this person ever run a marathon?’

When I was eight weeks out from my first marathon, I could confidently say even then that the hard part isn’t getting up before the sun and running 26.2 miles with 10,000 other endorphin-filled lunatics. The adrenaline and overdose of electrolytes kicks in and you coast through a new city of new ecstatic faces with a reasonable amount of pain. Then you pat yourself on the back, eat a giant burger, and avoid walking for the next two weeks. It’s fantastic.

 The hard part of running a marathon is everything that comes before running the actual marathon. It’s waking up on Monday knowing that your week will be made up of nothing but work, run, shower, sleep and repeat for the next five days. It’s calculating and timing out every nutrient and carb you intake to be sure you give your body what it needs. It’s knowing you’ll be running through pouring rain for three hours early Saturday morning after seeing the less than favorable weather report. It’s sore muscles, questionable knee injuries and constantly washing your favorite workout pants. 

After getting through the months training, long race and slow recovery, I now realize that this analogy of a “marathon” that’s so casually thrown around is nothing to be taken lightly. A marathon is mind-numbing exhaustive torture and complete liberation all wrapped up into spandex and anti-chafe cream. As a determined being, you continue to wake up and push yourself out the door and up the hill because in the end you want the satisfaction of knowing you achieved a point beyond normal human limits and accomplished something that very few can or even have a desire to do. It’s calculated, methodical and requires massive amounts of self-discipline. If you’re the person insisting on using “marathon” as reference to life’s difficult times or far-reaching goals, know your stuff.

As I attempt to make symbolic metaphors between completely unrelated topics, because frankly it’s my favorite thing to do, I’ve come to one significant conclusion: people run marathons because they really really want to. If you don’t want to run a marathon, you give up or you don’t attempt. 

The difference between a marathon and the tasks we refer to as a “marathon” is one human can’t make another human run 26.2 miles, as far as I am aware. If someone refers to your work responsibilities, your relationship or your investments as a marathon and you immediately want to tell them to go shove it, there might be something else happening here. 

I can recognize the cynicism in my words and should preface I have no objection with this phrase or the people that use this phrase, even despite their short-lived or non-existent running careers. I agree with the direct correlation it has on our long-term goals and fulfillment. However, when I was in the wrong college major, the wrong job and the wrong relationship, I got discouraged when applying this to where I was putting my time. I had to take a step back and evaluate whose race I was running and whether or not I wanted the end result or if it was something that someone else or some societal norm wanted for me.

 Back to the boss, or friend or overly aggressive motivational speaker that constantly has to remind you, “it’s a marathon, not a sprint.” While it’s inevitable there will be tasks, projects, chores, research etc. that we don’t want to do, I suppose the thing you have to ask yourself is if those training sessions are preparing you to run the race. Do you get excited about the end goal? Does the end goal motivate the day-to-day heachache tasks? Do you even know what the end goal is?

In life, we are so graciously allowed to pick our marathons. As a unique and wildly capable human you get to decide what you want to work for and how you’re going to go about it. If that doesn’t make you smile and allow your mind go a little wild with possibilities then I gather you’re probably lacking endorphins and could use a quick run.

There are many things in life we don’t have control over and we have to do just because someone told us to. But a marathon, in the literal sense or metaphorical sense, is for you. It’s the one thing you are committed to accomplishing and seeing through to the end despite how long it could take or how exhausting it might be.There’s a good chance no other human is going to be personally affected whether or not you choose to run a marathon, and that’s okay.

No one else can tell you what your end result should be, whom you should end up with or what habits and skills you should adopt. If it’s not a goal you truly want then you’ll likely never get there. Just like if you don’t actually want to run a marathon, you’ll probably never do it.

I conclude with encouraging all to look into your motives, ask questions, and make plans that get you excited to pick your course and run the hell out of it. When you’re done, you’ve crossed the finish line and you’re waddling around a crowded city park looking for your gold medal and chocolate milk, give me a call and I’ll be the one to get you a burger and fill up the ice bath. 

Then I suppose you can proudly say, “it’s a marathon, not a sprint.”