I completed my second marathon a few weeks ago. It was Mountains 2 Beach, which takes runners from the hills of Ojai to the beachfront of Ventura.
Going into the race, I was realistic about my goals. I knew my training had been cut short due to a few different injuries, including tendinitis in my left hip and what I thought was a sprained right ankle.
Despite that, I had cobbled together about two months of running, and I felt like I could complete the marathon in under five hours. So, longer than my first marathon, but still a finish, none the less.
The race went well for maybe the first three miles, and then the pain really started up.
Having run a marathon, and quite a few 20-mile runs over the past year and a half, I knew something was off. I felt I could still finish, but realized that just making it to the finish line – not hitting a certain time – was my new goal.
I did my best to enjoy the course, and I didn’t feel embarrassed or ashamed as the pacing groups passed me up. It was actually really freeing to let go of the time goal and just run for the sake of running. I jogged and did my best, finishing in 4 hours and 47 minutes.
Afterward, the pain was pretty crazy, but I sucked it up the best I could.
The next day I went to my stepson’s college graduation party and had a great time. My whole family was up for the party. I focused on the joy of being present with them. A few days later, I was off to USC for a five-day residential experience with the amazing people in my master’s program.
When I got back, I knew it was time to go to the doctor.
My doctor ordered some x-rays, and we found out that my ankle had been fractured back in March, not sprained like she originally thought.
It was fascinating to see the ankle and how the bone was repairing itself despite not implementing the recovery protocols a fracture requires. Because I was told it was a sprain back in March, I followed doctor’s orders and rested it for about six weeks. Then I got back to running in preparation for this marathon.
No cast. No boot. No crutches.
Of course, I ended up running funny because the ankle wasn’t completely healed, which lead to all the other pain I was experiencing in my hip and shins.
To be honest, right now I walk like a 70 year! Literally. Like a few days ago, I was behind a few senior citizens. God bless them, but we were all walking the same. And I’m 38.
My doctor says I have the trifecta of sciatica, shin splints, and hip tendinitis. Some of this is due to running odd because of the ankle. The lingering hip pain is because one of my legs is a little longer than the other (another thing no one realized until this week) and I just need to get a small lift in my running shoe to balance me out.
So what’s my game plan? What are my tips for running a marathon injured? How am I going to “overcome” this hurdle? What resentment do I have against the doctor who didn’t catch the fracture? What lesson is life trying to teach me?
I’ll be honest, if I were writing this a year ago, that would have been the focus of this post.
But today, I don’t have any of those feelings.
I don’t have to prove, overcome, and triumph over anything. My marathon played out exactly the way the universe intended.
I’m writing this post because what I wrote before the marathon is absolutely true: we are all so much more than any one moment. Life is meant to be enjoyed, not filled with a cycle of striving, guilt, and self-flagellation.
Strive for whatever you want, but remember at the end of the day it really doesn’t matter the outcome. Grabbing for things outside of yourself, thinking it will fix something hurting on the inside, doesn’t work. It’s like rearranging the furniture on a sinking boat. You have to fix the freaking boat!
I’m so grateful for my marathon experience. If it had gone “perfectly,” I’d be off to train for the next thing (likely another Ironman 70.3).
Instead, per the doctor’s orders, I won’t be running for a while. Likely a couple of months. That reality has helped me let go of striving for the next thing even more.
My life was full and joyful with running, and it’s full and joyful now that I’m doing other things with my time. What I do going forward may shift, but real peace and joy aren’t determined by things we do or achieve. They are available to us all of the time, regardless of the situation.
