Another good day. I took a nap and didn’t feel guilty about it. Laura is sick and with marathon training starting next week I’m really hoping I don’t catch it. After missing the half in September, I don’t want to think about missing any training. I stayed up later than usual last night. That’s usually a good indicator of how I’m feeling. I go to bed when I get tired, instead of looking at my watch and thinking about what I have going on tomorrow.
Another day, another blog post. Another blog post, another format. I’ve wanted to start a journal for years, and every so often I’d write something at the end of the day. Most recently was last week. The entry before that was at the beginning of this year. Maybe making it public will keep me on it, although my food accountability post did little to change my diet. Oh, well.
I’ve started running consistently again over the past couple of weeks after missing about two months due to illness and a foot injury. About that illness. I went backpacking a month ago when I was already struggling with a cold that had been lingering for several weeks. Just wouldn’t go away. So I went backpacking with a friend on what I’m sure was the first freeze of the winter and came home with a sinus infection. My first one and it was miserable.
Back to running. Next week I start training for my second marathon. The same course that kicked my ass last year. I missed my last half-marathon because of my injury and illness, so I’m more than ready to race. I’m aiming for a 4 hour time. I didn’t have a goal last year, but my soul carried my body across the finish line in 5:30.
I dealt with shin splints when I ran on consecutive days for the first time in a while last month, but a 5 mile turkey trot seemed to get everything loose again. I bought some KT Tape but haven’t used much of it.
From major depression to running 26.2 fucking miles.
There was a time I couldn’t drive to Wal-Mart without having an episode. There was a time I couldn’t will myself out of bed. There was a time when a good day meant showering and eating. There was a time when I had to hurt myself to feel anything at all. I ran 26.2 fucking miles Saturday.
There were two turning points in my life. The first was Laura giving me an ultimatum: GET HELP. I can’t thank her enough for those words that day and all she’d done leading up to it. The second turning point was early 2017 after my first 8 mile run. I was training for my first half-marathon and she rode her bike alongside me. She was crying when I finished and said she wasn’t sure she would ever get me back. Well here I am, and I couldn’t have done it without her.
Don’t confuse my grimace for a smile.
If you’re interested, here’s a recap of my race because I’m still pumped up.
I didn’t train for a specific time or the course, I just wanted to finish. However, my competitive juices were flowing in the final weeks and I set an aggressive goal of 4:30. For my first marathon on a VeRy HiLlY course. I ended up finishing in 5:30.
The first half was fine. I was cruising along when I decided to slow down because I was slightly faster than needed. I ran into the wall at mile 21, which was right before the course turned into Shelby Park. This was the hardest part. Not only because of the wall, but because there were no spectators in the park. I walked a majority of the way until exiting the park at about mile 23. At this point I had to think about each step in order to move at a trot. I walked up the remaining hills and emptied the tank by running the last two miles.
It was physically the hardest thing I’ve done and mentally exhausting. Everything hurt except my face. But as much as it sucked, after taking a few weeks off, I’ll start running again. And my plan is do do another marathon in the spring. This time in 4:30.
Tomorrow is my first marathon and I’m super excited. I cannot wait. I’ve done nothing today except play Assassin’s Creed Origins. That’s all I can do. My mind is running wild.
It’s been hard to write these past few weeks because all I can think about is tomorrow. Hopefully it all goes well and I’ll start posting more regularly. Depending on how sore I am, writing may be all I’m able to do. Wish me luck!
Arsenio Franklin 