Post-marathon running, to put it bluntly, sucks.
When you have completed a marathon, you are on a high that lasts for so many weeks, you can easily forget to work out, in which case, your body slowly begins to take on the form of the retired Mr. Incredible.
But the increased size and odd shape of body parts is not the only downfall: you also realize that your once-a-week long run is the exact same mileage as your previous daily runs.
Lately I’ve noticed the first four miles of my runs are hard.
I feel so completely out of shape and uncoordinated I seriously doubt I was the woman who ran 26.2 miles last July.
But once I get past the four-mile barrier, something amazing happens: I feel strong.
I can pick up the pace and really focus on what my body is doing. I can challenge myself in ways that, at the outset, seemed quite ridiculous. It’s at this point I begin to realize daily effort pays off big-time.
In life, working towards a specific goal is hard work. And hard work automatically implies a process that is uncomfortable and quite possibly smells bad.
Often as you approach your barrier, you feel like you should just give up and slink back to wherever it is you came from.
Why work so hard when the goal isn’t even in sight?
But if you press through it, you will find that the sweaty, smelly, difficult exercise has made you stronger.
Soon, you are flying along, not even thinking about what you can’t do, because your head is filled with what you are actually doing.
I once heard a pastor who kept talking about the Iditarod he ran once without freezing to death, which is all well and good, but he ran it in 1973.
What had he done lately?
If 1973 was your last great achievement, then you might want to consider that opportunities may be mushing past you.
I don’t want to be one of those people who talks about the marathon she ran once, a long time ago. I want to be doing amazing things right up until the day I die.
Amazing goals don’t have to be grandiose: you could strive to be a healthy person when you’re in your 80s (like my Grandma), to have a good relationship with your kids (also like my Grandma), or to be the most awesome teacher, friend, architect, parent, or spouse ever—amazing goals are not necessarily the most public ones.
In fact, the most difficult goals to achieve are the ones that come without recognition.
I don’t know when I will run another marathon, but I do have dreams I’m moving towards. And while many of them seemed utterly out of reach six months ago, now, they’re starting to sound reasonable, achievable.
And that is exciting.
But it’s hard.
Sometimes the struggle doesn’t seem worth it. And at those times, the muscle memory of my highs will have to carry me through the lows.
But once I’ve made it past that four-mile barrier, I’ll be flying.
Then I can say:
Sure, the marathon was great, but look at what I’m doing now!
Whatever your goal may be (some of us would like to lose 20 pounds before the high school reunion in August:), keep working at it.
I guarantee once you’re past your own personal four-mile barrier, you’ll be flying too.