Yes, I run because I’m crazy

MANILA, Philippines – True, it’s not something most people would do: only one percent of the world’s population has gone the 42.195 km distance.

While I can’t speak for all runners — yes, I’m crazy and that’s why I do it.

Sometimes, I am incredulous myself. “Am I really going to run for two hours and 40 minutes today?” That thought creeps in minutes into a long training run. Then I start to feel a dull pain in my left knee each time my foot hits the road. Still, I keep going. Two and a half hours!

As someone who often questions herself and who has had bouts of analysis paralysis for just about anything, hitting the road has taught me, as my Nike shoes would say, to “just do it.”

After pounding concrete for more than two hours, the ache in my knee is gone. Seems all it needs is to warm up. The sky has turned an optimistic blue. As the sun heats up, the breeze comes as a surprise blessing. My legs are sore as hell though, and my feet are burning. I run the last half hour needed anyway to clock in the day’s training.

I am exhausted yet I feel a strength in me that wasn’t there last week. Later, I gorge on Eggs Benedict and out-eat my triathlete husband, without guilt. These are some of the simple joys that come with my crazy habit. It wasn’t love at first try by any means. I had to force myself to start for the usual health reasons. Vanity, too.

I wanted to fit back into my pre-pregnancy jeans. Three years into it, those things came with so much more.

Sanity saver

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I have a theory that people who grow up crazy end up being saner when they’re older. Us crazy folks have to make the extra effort to get our act together. How do we get rid of our thought distortions? Bad habits? How do we get off the couch and stop eating chips all day, taking drugs, drinking too much, wasting too much time on mind-numbing Zynga games, being constantly angry — or fill in the blank?

We need to find our strategies. Otherwise, our lives will unravel.

Running is part of my sanity-saving drill. There’s a meditative aspect to it. I’m actually not that good at meditation yet, but if I do it focused on my steps and my breath as I run, it becomes easier.

There’s also the mental escape. Just me, the road, and Fiona Apple singing “run baby, fast as you can!” It has become the adult equivalent to my teenage habit of blasting music and dancing around in my bedroom. When you have kids and a husband and students and deadlines and business partners and chores and a million responsibilities, it’s a great way to let loose then reboot.

So I make a run for it at least a few times a week. Every time I do, the abstract ideal becomes concrete — persist, endure, show up on time, do what you have to do and do it well — despite things getting in the way.

Besides the “going for it,” there’s also the lesson in “letting go.” Running has taught me that doing my best doesn’t mean controlling everything. I push my potential, but there are also limits to what I can do, and I have to accept that. I plan my runs and races, but random forces can mess with those plans — but there’s no use freaking out about it.

Go for it, then let go. Breathe in and out. Just move forward.

Which brings me to my first 42 km race.

Dream big

My husband and I are in Nuvalli Laguna for the 2013 TBR Dream Marathon. We are running this together. He actually dared me to do it in the first place. His ultimate dare is now about to turn into one of our best Sunday dates. As the gun goes off at 2 am, we start our marathon date under the biggest, brightest, most romantic full moon I’ve seen: our Bursting With Hope Moon.

With long stretches of inclining roads and a few steep hills, we knew our first marathon course wasn’t easy. But we put in the training and came prepared. All we had to do now was run the course as planned and enjoy it. We were to do a 4-minute run and 1-minute walk interval to carry us through.

Which is another life metaphor right there: take it an interval at a time. Each 5 minutes — the bursts or running speed — are just as important as the time to walk and rest.

And yet, my inner demons! They tend to come out and talk to me when I’m running, especially on the long runs. Today, they remind me of my baggage — tough years growing up, people who still weigh me down, insecurities, worries, mistakes, failures, a million things I still need to accomplish and doubts that I could accomplish them.

And then, my metaphorical angel! My baggage is the heat, the exhaustion, the thirst and my sore, wobbly legs at kilometer 32 onwards. They’re there, but what else can I do? Stop and give up? No way.

I reach a water station where people are cheering me on. I take a cup of cold water and it is delicious like fairy nectar — magically reviving. At the next station, I get orange slices from a lady who smiles and tells me, “You’re almost there!” The oranges are the sweetest I’ve ever had, almost orgasmic to taste. It’s as if exhaustion, thirst, and adrenaline combined to make some pleasure-enhancing drug.

Then a gentle rain starts to fall. I look up the sky to wet my hot face and thank Mother Nature for the relief, which is when I see… a huge, high-definition rainbow. A rainbow! If only my eyes could have taken a picture.

Minutes later, a Dream Chaser asks to run with me to the finish — “Ang lapit mo na, sprint na natin? (You’re so near, let’s go for a sprint?)” How could I say no to this nice guy? I mustered all the strength I had left. As we turned towards the last few meters, I saw my husband cheering me on under the big FINISH arc.

In a few more rapid heartbeats, I burst through the finish line in tears and into his arms. I see another friend and finisher, his eyes swollen from crying, giving me a congratulatory smile of kinship. We are marathoners now.

While it is a race, I didn’t see my co-runners that day as competitors. We were on a communal quest for our individual moments of greatness. It didn’t matter who got there first. The point was to power through the journey without losing yourself in the effort.

That’s how I did what I doubted I could do in 5 hours and 24 minutes. I took it one 5-minute interval at a time. I faced my demons and told them to shut the hell up. I was grateful for people’s kindness. I relished their cups of water and slices of oranges.

I pushed myself, but only to the point where I could still see hope in the moon and marvel at a rainbow. With my sore legs, I sprinted with all I had left to the finish, capping my journey by falling into the arms of someone I love.

This is how I ran my first marathon. This is how I want to live. – Rappler.com