“Being alone is very difficult.” ~Yoko Ono
Marathon training is not only hard, but it’s lonely. I don’t think it’s something you can truly understand until you go through it yourself. I have friends that have run marathons so I thought I got it. I most certainly did not.
I remember being out with friends, begging them to have one more drink, one more bite, one more anything, and scoffing when they said they couldn’t. Of course they can, I thought. They’re just being (insert word here). And of course, that’s when you could get them out at night. Because most times, you can’t. Now I know, though, that you can’t eat one more bite, because it might be the thing that puts you over the edge during your run that evening. And you can’t always have another drink or go out at all because you have to get up at 4 am to run X number of miles.
I know all this now. And it sucks.
What I need is someone to say “Let’s stay in and watch a movie tonight because I know you have a long run tomorrow.” Or “Here, have some water with lemon to hydrate for your run in the morning.” Or how about someone to tell me to put down the fucking cupcake or smack the Ritz crackers out of my hand.
But I don’t have a person like that. I don’t have a partner in crime for this adventure.
It’s hard to go through this alone and I wish, now, I would have been more understanding of my friends that have gone through it before me.
Balance is key, in all aspects of training, and I have to admit I’m doing a terrible job. I’m either too serious or not serious enough. Eating everything in the house or nothing at all. Running all the miles or hardly any.
And now that I’m injured, I am feeling all of this times 10. I know I need to rest, but I know I can’t not run. And no one gets it.
It’s officially 100 days until the marathon. I just have to make it through and then everything will go back to normal, right?
