My first marathon.
I just finished my first full marathon on Sunday. 42.2km, for anyone who didn’t know. It was an experience.
I’ve done two half marathons, about 5 years apart, with the latest being last year. This full is likely the most I’ve trained for a run in my life, with my running club hitting it three times a week fairly consistently earlier this year but fading going into summer time.
I needed to train more, but I knew that going in. I anticipated a high physical demand, but it was even higher than I planned. My buddy Eric told me the marathon starts at 30km, and he was right. It is amazing the ‘capacity increase’, as there was a day when a 10km run was intimidating. Then, a half (21.2km) was intimidating. I breezed by that point in 2hr15min, a personal best (“pb” in millennial speak). Now, a marathon is slightly less intimidating.
So the physical side was one part, the mental part another. I had to will my way through that one, which I actually trained for too. I deliberately put myself into some uncomfortable situations – aka waking up at 5AM when I didn’t want to, getting behind in Pickleball and having to mentally get back into it (aka hit another gear), bike to church when it would’ve been easier to drive, bike to work when it would’ve been easier to drive, etc. I call it making my overly-comfortable life less comfortable.
The one part that threw me right off though was the unexpected emotional component. On at least three or four occasions, I got choked up. It depended mostly on the song I was listening to, or what I was dealing with at that moment, or sometimes talking to my buddy. I think my body as in such a state of shock that it just came out, and I had to fight through that. It felt good to be alive.
And hills. Lots of hills.
I started the race and ended it with my buddy which was the highlight.
Heal my blisters, and then focus in on the swimming and biking to prep for some sprint, Olympic and hopefully a Half Ironman next year.