Tomorrow I leave to run marathon number 5 in Pelham, Alabama. Kristin is coming with me. It's our first road trip together, and my first time to go off with someone who also wants to run. I'm glad she was inspired at the Little Rock Marathon and I hope this weekend she's able to fall a little in love with running.
Yesterday I did my last run before the race on Sunday. I ran three miles and it was terrible. It was hot, I was tired, and I did not feel strong. I keep counting the days/miles/weeks since my last marathon, comparing to training for other marathons, and analyzing my level or preparedness. I don't know why because I know this is going to be fun: it's a trail race! But there is the nagging irrational fear--what if only fast people run this race and I'm left behind?? What if running on a trail is way harder than I expected and I can't do it? What if.....
On my way home from work I started thinking about love. (Aww how sweet!) I was thinking about a friend of mine and his relationship problems, maybe some of my past relationship problems, though no specific ones, and just what happens to people in general when it comes to long term togetherness. (I'm going somewhere with this!) Always somewhere in my mind is the level of validity that various people give to certain relationships, both their own and other people's. A long term, strong relationship is like a long, hilly run. People will tell you sort of automatically and tritely that there are ups and downs, but you can't really see that until you look back on several years. In any relationship, you'll be able to see after a while where you've been, and based on where you were, you can kind of tell where you'll be again. If you can see good in the past and good in the future, then you can know that whatever low you might be in will pass. You have to be patient. You have to be willing to sweat it out, or to shut up and deal with your (my) own issues, or to own your own mistakes or faults, or to be forgiving of your partner's. I'm connecting this to running because I think it explains crappy runs. How can I have a crappy three mile run on Thursday and then successfully complete 26.2 on Sunday? It's because I'm in a long-term relationship with running: I see where I've been and I have faith that I can be there again. During a down-time with my partner (for whatever reason), I can see where I've been and trust that I can be there again. If you give up on a relationship or a marriage because of a series of bad moments or funks or miscommunications, you give up on the possibility that you'll be at the good again.
You give up on the awesomeness of familiarity, too. Familiar is not bad or dull. Passion can be familiar. The sweet tenderness of a familiar kiss? Unmatchable. Know where you've been. Maybe you don't know exactly where you're going, but you have to be willing to believe that it will be somewhere snug and soft and good. The familiar exhilarating strength of running is too much to give up on, too. Even in summer, even when it's morning and staying in bed would be easier. Easy doesn't get you anywhere. When things are tough in any part of life, we have to ask ourselves: where have I been, where will I wind up again, and how much work, (how many miles?) am I putting into it?
Back to that validity thing.You have to validate yourself, your relationship, and your commitment to whomever you love. You have to believe that it's right and that you deserve happiness. I have to do that, and I have to keep doing that. You have to look at other people where they are and support them. We have to hold people together when we can. I had to believe that I deserved happiness in my relationship in order to have it. I have to support the people around me, listen to them and give them what they need. Where running is concerned, it's important to me to support people when they are getting started. That's part of why I'm excited about going away with Kristin. It's why I got so much out of volunteering at the Women Can Run 5k last weekend: so much potential strength and emotion through running, through completing something, through women believing in each other.
Sometimes you look at where you've been and you know that where you will probably end up is not a place that you want to be. I've been there too. Dropping out of that "race" can be hard--admitting defeat, giving up, disappointing someone. But believing in yourself means knowing when to rest, when to stop, when to take a break, when to make a new plan.
Right now, my bag is packed and I'm looking forward to the trip. I think it will be a great one.
