Because You Can't, You Won’t, and You Don't Stop

We're well into our season of marathon training now, and have been focusing on hills.  This is highly advisable since in complete contrast to my Phoenix marathon, San Francisco will have plenty of nice steep hills to break up the landscape.  Hills represent an extra challenge, a call to push yourself a little harder to overcome the resistance that will try to hold you back.

I often forget to watch out for hills.  They're out there, everywhere, some longer or steeper than others.  At times they may seem easily surmountable until you find yourself in the middle somewhere, dreading the idea of continuing on but not wanting to give up.  And just like with everything else, you can't stop once you've started, as you have no other option but to continue on.  While it seems more natural to try to avoid them as much as possible, and actively seeking hills may seem slightly insane, it's necessary to prepare yourself the best you can for what lies ahead.  Putting in the effort ahead of time, as well as you can anticipate, is the ideal method of preparation.  It's not a guarantee, as we will always encouter unexpected challenges, but is necessary for improvement and survival.  Lessons learned the hard way in advance build the necessary response skills for the rough patches ahead.

Once you've hit your hill you've got to dig in and give it everything.  Push forward, remembering that pain is temporary and the will to conquer burns deep.  Keep putting one foot in front of the other, little by little as you can stand it to keep going.  Because you can't, you won't, and you don't stop.  All such obstacles can be conquered with the will to continue on.

The Power of Believing in Yourself, and the Special Magic of Others Believing in You

I have achieved a long-awaited goal: I broke 2 hours on the half marathon course.  This is an aspiration set by many runners when they are getting started, and several previous attempts at it had failed.  Why this time was different is rooted in the power of one word: believe.

 

This is me four years ago, to the week for the photo on the right.  It feels like a lifetime ago, and honestly it was a different life at that time, for many reasons.  I was a different person: easily discouraged, quick to shut down and withdraw, prone to give up and quit; I slept a lot.  Excuses ran rampant for many things, and being healthy was not on the forefront of my concerns.  In many ways I merely existed, as I wanted things for my life but not enough to put the effort into working towards a plan to obtain them.  As a result, many dreams fell to the wayside and would never materialize.

I've mentioned before that running has come and gone in my life depending on the circumstances at the time.  It took the encouragement and prodding of my friend Gretchen to drive enough effort into me to sign up for a few 5ks and a triathlon.  I would go to the races, unprepared, and walk a lot.  They would take a long time to complete, and the finish line didn't hold any excitement for me; it simply marked the end of the misery.  There was never enough planning and hard work put in before the starting line to make the race itself, let alone the finish, feel rewarding.  I continued to do them and amass a collection of t-shirts, but I didn't take pride in the races or my performance.  Most of all, I didn't take pride in myself.

I tried half-heartedly to improve my efforts, and lost a bit of weight here and there.  Half-heartedly equals half the effort as well, so nothing really changed.  My weight bounced around a bit, but not enough to make me want to make it a priority; it didn't excite me enough to make the necessary changes for progression.  And so it went, and probably would have continued that way until I got the wild notion to sign up for a half marathon.

Finishing my first half marathon changed that mentality in many ways.  I hadn't put a lot of thought into the race beforehand (go out and run 13 miles, that's all) but for the first time the finish line captivated me.  That race was tough; giving up never crossed my mind but I often wondered if it would ever end.  13 miles hadn't sounded so intimidating until I was somewhere in the middle of it and questioning my sanity.  It took 3 hours and 5 minutes; just finishing the thing made me feel pretty victorious.  The unexpected medal at the end, coupled with the open arms of Gretchen and another dear friend Kim made me feel pretty important.  Had I really just done that?  That was a big deal!  And with all that time on the course to think, I admitted to myself that if I had put in some effort and real training before race day, the journey wouldn't have been quite so miserable.

Shortly after that I had another life changing event, which caused me to finally commit to myself.  If I was going to keep doing races, if I had any hope of having better experiences, it would require putting in the effort and hard work ahead of time.  Something had to change, and that was me and my attitude.  The weight came off easily at first, as did the minutes off my race time.  Kim was waiting for me at the finish line of my second half marathon 5 months later, when I finished at 2 hours 19 minutes.  Now let me tell you how Kim is an Ironman, which is beyond impressive by most people's standards, and she had tears in her eyes for me and my success, having cut 45 minutes off my finish time.  I've historically had a hard time taking pride in my accomplishments, but I felt entitled to that one; what an incredible feeling, quite worthy of bragging rights.

I didn't stop trying, and the running fluctuated a bit in and out of my life as I uprooted my world to a new area and a new job last year.  Throughout this time I prepared more for my races, and began to enjoy rather than simply endure the journey of the race.  However, the 2 hour mark eluded me time and again; I would get close and something would burn out inside me on the course and it would slip through my grasp, seemingly just outside my ability.

As the Seattle Rock n Roll half marathon loomed ahead of me, I doubted this time would be any different.  I had come close to breaking 2 hours before, and given it everything, all my energy, yet still failed.  I feared it would end up like that again.  I hadn't run much since injuring myself after my marathon in January, and while my preliminary distances were shorter and faster, I didn't think I had it in me to extend it all the way.  I shared this fear with Kim, who immediately responded by imploring me to believe in myself because she believed in me.  She knew I was capable of it if I set my mind to it; I just needed to be able to believe it too.

June 25, 2011 was a beautiful morning; a little cool and not raining.  The air crackled with excitement as I waited in the corral with two of my new teammates; we were all shooting for a new personal record.  The customary countdown got us started, and the miles clicked off nice and easy, smooth and fast.  I know hearing the shouts of "Go TEAM" helped keep me charged, as well as having friends running beside me, and everything just felt great.  I dared to hope that maybe it would happen this time but the old fears nagged loudly, and along the viaduct they started to get the best of me and I could feel myself losing steam.  I tried not to look at my watch, I knew I was good at that point but couldn't calculate what I would need to get to the end, and I had been disappointed before.  Then I thought about a sticker I had recently received that simply said one word: believe.  And I could hear Kim's voice and picture the words from her email.  I started to say the word and Kim's phrases out loud, and it refueled the fire.  Down the ramp, out the stretch, around the corner - I was closing in on the finish and all of a sudden I truly believed it was possible.  A few more turns and I was charging down the long stretch to the finish line.  Double rock star arms through the finish line of course, because I did it!  1 hour 54 minutes - that's 7 minutes faster than my previous best time.  It just took hard work, dedication, and a touch of faith.  

Having others believe in you and your abilities helps keep you going, but it takes the power of believing in yourself to make it a reality.