"I quit" is not a sentence you will hear from me often. I can count on one hand the number of things I have quit in my lifetime. As a child, my parents pushed me to not give up on anything but especially not on myself. As an adult, I've taken their advice and turned it into my own motivation. Why would you quit? How could you quit? You're not a failure. Whatever it is you push through it.
For the first weekend in three weeks, I set out for my long run. I really needed to run seventeen miles in order to make up for being gone the last two weeks. There are only six more weeks that stand between me and the Chicago Marathon.
My runs have been half-hearted most of the summer but this one I was determined. I felt great the first nine miles. I made my last turn of my route onto Peachtree Street (yes, there are a hundred of these in Atlanta but this is the main Peachtree Street :D) This is a gradual incline for the last eight miles. I stopped for water at a Publix (P.S. you know it's a long run when you pass three Publix grocery stores) and was headed back up this slllooowww incline. I made it to the half marathon distance before I locked up. I reached for my fuel and realized I must have dropped it on my last turn, 5 miles ago. Without fuel, I had no idea how I was going to make it through the last four miles. I continued to run/walk for the next two miles and then called my husband to come pick me up.
Then it hit me. I am not trained for a full marathon. I am in shape to run thirteen miles but the thought of doing thirteen more was gut wrenching. How could I let this happen? I'm not a quitter. I slacked on my long weekday runs and relied on endurance workouts to carry me through these miles. I had been running my short weekday runs and expecting that would prepare me for this double digit miles on the weekends. The simple answer is no. It did not prepare me.
I sat on the floor beat after that run. Trying to think about where I go from here. My first thoughts were I'll be a failure if I quit. I will have to turn back on my word. That's not who I am. My husband then looked at me and said, "Why would you be a failure? Do you realize what you just accomplished? You just ran 15 miles! It's not like you haven't done a marathon before. What are you trying to prove?"
While running used to be my world, it's not anymore. I'm trying to force myself to do something that I know in my heart is not my main focus. I don't need to cross another marathon off my bucket list. I've already crossed it off, twice.
My goal is to be fit. Not to run in 50 marathons. What is my definition of fit? I want to be strong, fast, and I want my health measures to be in line with an athlete. I'm the slowest I've ever been running 12:00+ minute miles. I haven't seen those number EVER. My body fat percentage is higher than it was three months ago. While I'm happy with how strong my legs are, I'm not happy with my upper body strength. It's GONE almost completely. So I asked myself again, what am I doing?
I quit. I'm not going to run this marathon. In the next six weeks I am traveling three of them. Which means I need to find time to fit those long runs in again. Which again means I have to give up time with my friends and family to do something that is making me absolutely miserable. I don't like this side of me. It's time to make some changes. While I would love to say I did another marathon, who cares? Really. Life is too short to be miserable and time is too valuable to spend it griping about the problems you are creating for yourself. Do things that make you happy and don't look back. I know I'll look back on this post when in three years I say, oh let's do another marathon and I will remember it's not the right challenge for me.
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