When 1.7 Miles Feels Like the Longest I’ve Ran My Entire Life
Long runs do get easier... until the very end.
Thank you to everyone who came out to Charleston Zine Fest on Sunday! I had so much fun meeting folks and connecting with everyone about my writing.
The first official Running on Sentences zine, a collection of all the May & June issues of this newsletter, is officially out! It was so fun to take my writing from the digital form to print. If you couldn’t make it to Zine Fest and would like a copy, you can place an order at my shop! If you live in Charleston, use the discount code ‘CHSLOCAL’ to get free shipping.
Thank you for your support and reading Running on Sentences! This project means a lot to me and I’m excited to keep going.
My long runs just get longer. I know that’s the point of this whole marathon training thing, but when I look at the calendar and I’m regularly seeing numbers in the double digits, I’m a little taken aback. Part of me thought I wouldn’t make it this far, especially after never being able to run a half marathon.
But I did it. July brought a 10.5- and 12-mile run. This past Saturday, I finally ran my half marathon (and an additional 0.9 miles) for my longest run yet. A little under two weeks from now, I’m slated to run 17 miles.
On my run Saturday, I ran loops around my neighborhood. It was very hot, so I started early in the morning and I didn’t want to be more than a half mile away from my house at any time — just in case something happened. The worst part of the run was when I had to run past my street because I still had 1.7 miles to go. Realizing that I didn’t perfectly align the loops with my intended finish spot, I had two options: run one more full mile lap and some change or do the world’s worst out-and-back, hitting the length of every single cul-de-sac so I didn’t have to pass by the “finish” one more time. (See the map below for this to hopefully make more sense).
I didn’t think I could take the mental hit that would be passing by the finish one more time and still having more to run. So I took the cul-de-sac route and it felt like the hardest run I have ever done. When I was running the last 1.7 miles, I kept telling myself it was only 1.7 miles. I had already run 12.3, surpassing the distance of my last long run. 1.7 miles is only, like, 12% of the total distance.
I thought as the runs grew longer, they would feel more grueling and mostly they feel exactly the same except for the last two miles. It’s like I hit the point in my run when I only have two miles left and my body is all, “No thanks. We’re done. Good luck suffering! Ha! Ha! Ha!” And I’m left wondering why I chose to wade through thick, humid air trying to tell myself it’s just a little bit further and then I can sit down. That’s all I want to do at that point — just sit down, or rather, lie down on the asphalt and take a nice long nap.
I never want to give up more than when I’m almost done.
Even though I hadn’t finished my run, I did feel a sense of accomplishment. When I passed the 12-mile mark, I had been on my longest run ever — and I felt pretty good that entire run despite my earbuds dying at around the two hour mark and dealing with the impending threat of thunder. I weathered both of those setbacks, making a new friend, meeting a dog, and seeing a rainbow along the way.
It was hard to keep going when the end was in sight, and despite having run about 3.5 hours at that point, the last thirty minutes took the longest. Time is weird like that. I never thought I would say that running twelve miles was a breeze — but it felt great — until time slowed down and I became more aware of myself and my body than I had for the prior 12.3 miles.
But, I pressed on. A lot of marathon training is just pressing on and saying to myself, I signed up for this. I need to finish. I think, more than anything, it’s just working through discomfort and understanding that sometimes things really suck but the only way out is through.
The first time I learned this lesson was in yoga. There’s a class I like at Holy Cow Yoga Center taught by Steven, one of the teachers. It’s yin yoga, and when I first heard about yin yoga I thought, Oh, that sounds great. It’s just, like, deep stretching and meditation. And yeah, it is deep stretching and meditation, but it’s not easy. I remember in one of the classes Steven was talking about how sometimes people have this misperception that yin yoga is easy, when in reality it’s one of the hardest disciplines because, in many ways, it requires the most mental fortitude. I never felt more humbled than when I tried to hold sphinx pose for five minutes — without moving.
In yin, the pose always starts out fine. It’s the last ninety seconds of a five-minute pose that are hard. I was to release the pose and fall to the ground. I don’t want to “breathe into it” or “relax into the pose.” I pretty much want to do anything other than committing to be uncomfortable. But, I do. And I kept going back to the class and holding other equally uncomfortable poses for five minutes — like pigeon, which often feels great but not necessarily for five minutes. Whatever the pose, I held the position and breathed through it. Deep, slow breaths with my eyes closed, telling myself I can do it, it’s not that much longer, and when this is over I’ll be so proud of what I was able to do.
I had to do the same thing for the last 1.7 miles of my 14 mile run. One foot in front of the other, the distance traveled creeping up on my watch.
Not much longer, not much longer, not much longer. Think about what it will be like to eat something other than Clif Blocks and Huma gels. Think about what it will be like to take a shower. Think about what it will be like to post the picture of my watch at 14 miles on Instagram. Think about what it will be like to be done.
And I keep thinking about these things, keep telling myself I can do it, until my feet have taken me to my front door. I stop my watch and sit down, take the ice water out of my cooler and drink, and know that when I have to run 26.2 miles I can do it all over again.
Congratulations on your longest run to date! Running past the house so many times takes a lot of mental strength! Great work.
yes you can!