What I Learned from the Marathon I Should Not Have Been Able to Run

A sports injury in my youth left a permanent reminder in my lower back. A car accident left its mark on my knee. I have lived with chronic pain for over twenty years. As a young adult, the idea that I might one day run at all—let alone complete a full marathon—never entered my mind. When my sights finally turned to running one, I was told I couldn’t. And yet, last Sunday, I did.

The past few days in recovery have given me time to reflect on everything that went into that 26.2-mile run. As it turns out, I learned a few things:

• It’ll hurt. Have fun anyway. In the 6 months leading up to race day, I ran over 300 miles, mostly in the dark (before my toddlers woke up), alone. I don’t think I could have gotten to the starting line if I stewed over “the slog” or how much less time I had for the other things that were important to me (like sleep). So, I found a way to get excited by combining my training runs with my love of learning and podcasts. With the flip of a (mental) switch, training was transformed into the only time I allowed myself to listen to my favorite shows like Race to Value and The Healthcare QualityCast. It still hurt, but that was the tradeoff for my own version of ear candy.
• ?Plan ahead and plan to fail. Like any project, self-discipline only goes so far towards hitting your timelines and objectives. Things outside of your control will come up. Old injuries resurface, new ones happen, kids get sick.... Think about what could go wrong, what kind of an impact it could have, and what contingencies you can put in place so you get to that starting line. Expect life to happen and plan accordingly.
• Get help (from people, not the internet). I failed to make it to the starting line twice before. The first time I thought I could do it on my own; a pinched sciatic nerve ended my training. The second attempt involved some independent “research” and a knee brace from Amazon. It didn’t work. Finally, I decided to invest in a coach (shout out to Jeff Galloway's team) and consultations with physicians who had the knowledge and expertise I lacked. I trusted them and it worked.
• Run your own race. Over 1,500 people ran the full marathon on Sunday. It was hard not to feel competitive in the moment when someone passed me, but what good would that have done? It was hard to stop the dread I felt of possibly being the last to cross the finish line. But so what if I was?! My goal of running a marathon was to challenge my own physical and mental #endurance. To see if I could even make it to the starting line, to learn from my past experiences and improve because #betterhasnolimits. This was not about anyone else on the racecourse that day, except maybe my wife who stuck by me when my knee went out at mile 17 and joked that this is what it took to get me on a “day date.” We crossed the finish line together, holding hands, and I can think of no better lesson than at the end of the day, it’s the people we share our time with—our friends, family, and colleagues—that count more than anything. The race I should not have been able to run was a (relative) walk in the park because of the support of those around me.

Lastly, I’ll share that the term “it’s a marathon, not a sprint” should be retired. It focuses only on the race itself and ignores where the real #grit lives, in the preparation you do to get to the starting line.