December, here we come!

July 31, 2009

I have made a decision. Yep. I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna run another marathon. In 2005 I ran the Chicago Marathon with my brother. I was thrilled to have accomplished the challenge, but always said I probably wouldn't run another marathon unless I had a really strong motivation to do so - and I really couldn't think of what that motivation would be - until now.

When Jeremy and I were in San Francisco last weekend, the San Francisco marathon took place. All day on Sunday we ran into people walking around wrapped mylar or wearing marathon t-shirts. Whenever I could, I congratulated the runners we encountered. They always smiled that exhausted, thrilled smile in return. I walked away with goose bumps up and down my arms recalling the sense of accomplishment, of community, and of relief I experienced the day I ran the marathon.

The day before my second surgery, October 16, 2008, I walked around the house wearing my marathon medal. It was my reminder to myself that I could physically endure the challenge that lay ahead of me. It was proof that I could mentally withstand the trial.

And so I got to thinking about running another marathon. I'm not a fast runner by any means. It's not about speed or numbers for me (or at least I have never wanted it to be). In fact, when it becomes about those things for me, I hate running. I have this memory of running with my brother that just cracks me up. We were both home from college for some type of break and he invited me to go running with him, so I did. I didn't understand anything about pacing yourself. I just took off running, full speed ahead. And of course, I couldn't maintain that for very long. I was out of breath and came to a halt while Jason went on ahead. He realized I had stopped and came back to me. "Come on, you can do it," he said as he stepped behind me and literally started pushing me from behind. I laughed. "I just can't do it J." (I'm sure I acted all dramatic too, out of breath, bending over, shaking my head!)

He remembered that exchange too. We talked about it during our 26.2 mile run together that cool day in Chicago in October of 2005.

So what is the motivation now? What's shifted? There are a few things. One is that when I had my ostomy, I felt like I couldn't run with that bag attached to me. Yes - this was a limitation I put on myself. There are plenty of people with ostomies who run. I was just too fearful to be one of them. And so now that I'm ostomy-free, I want to take full advantage of my body and my health. I really don't know what the future holds for me health-wise. I try not to focus too much on the possibilities, but I also don't want to ignore them because I don't want to be devastated if in the future I should need to live with an ostomy again. So Carpe Diem is one of my major reasons.

I honestly believe the mental preparation for running a marathon is harder than the physical part. And by golly, isn't that true of so many things? I fought so many demons during my training for the 2005 run: You're not an athlete. You won't finish the run. You'll fail. Do you seriously think you're strong enough to do this? Won't you be embarrassed when you have to tell people that you didn't finish? Won't you be embarrassed when you tell people how slow you are? Man there were a lot of demons. And when I crossed that finish line with my brother right there behind me (because he let me cross the finish line first), I stabbed every single one of those demons in the heart. Killed 'em dead.

I have some demons of a different sort in my head these days. I went to a yoga class after work last night. I needed it something awful. I needed the quiet. I needed the space to focus on the swirling that's been going on inside me. For those of you who haven't done yoga before, the whole purpose of yoga is to give your body a good workout, to really focus your attention, so that you can come to this place of quiet, focused peace and meditate. Oh that's why I love yoga SO much! And so when we got to the final relaxation part of the class last night, I laid there on my mat and closed my eyes. And all I could see was the past. I saw myself, pathetic, exhausted, empty womb, full of fluid, still bleeding from my colon, greasy hair, unable to move on my own. I wondered why when I close my eyes I still see that Abby? Why am I so focused on the past? Why can't I let go? And I started to cry (which is not unusual for me in a yoga class). The tears just started pouring out as I laid there. They rolled out of the corners of my eyes and collected behind my ears. I opened my eyes. With my eyes open I can stay in the present. But whenever I close my eyes, I end up in the past. I screamed in my mind, I want control of my mind! I felt so helpless to the memories. I know that training for another marathon will be the battle ground for these demons.

But more than that too, because I don't know what the future holds for me health-wise, I want another marathon medal. If another surgery should be needed, I want to wear two medals around my neck. I want to show myself how strong I am, both mentally and physically for whatever life marathons come my way.

Okay, and I don't want to leave out the part about the joys of running either! There is nothing like that moment when you know you've found your pace - when all the rhythms in your being match up with each other. The boom, boom of your heart matches the boom, boom of your feet and your mind rests in the beat. You feel like you can go forever! Oh it's wonderful.

So, all that being said, I have registered to run a marathon here in Tucson in December. And, yes, the icing on the cake: Jeremy has agreed to run it with me! No doubt you'll be hearing about my training runs from time to time.