I learned something important about myself on a long run I recently completed a little over a week ago. My older brother (who is functioning as my full time trainer leading up to the Games) and I tried to get up early and beat the heat. However, by the time we started at 8 a.m. the roadside thermometer in town already read 80 degrees. The long run route would take me through my local neighborhoods for three miles and then around the lake for an additional 15 miles before hitting the dirt road that leads from my house at 6,700 ft. to Skyline, one of my favorite dirt roads in Big Bear, at nearly 8,000ft.

The reason it is called skyline is easy to understand when you are up on the rim of the world. When I am up there I feel like I am practically part of the bright blue sky that encompasses me.

Before I entered the land of “marathon,” I used to keep my easy runs pretty easy. Now, I feel that the long run is one of the most, if not the most, important components to marathon training, so I try and move along at a decent clip.  At the end of a 130-mile week, with 18 miles of relatively hard running under my belt in 80-degree temperatures I was tired. Running toward the hill I knew that I was in for a lot of pain.  I often say that the training for the marathon is more difficult than the race itself.  This session reproved my point.

A few minutes into the hill everything was burning. I was pumping my arms as hard as I could but it didn’t seem to help increase my pace. I tried focusing on pushing more with my calves then lifting with my quads. Nothing seemed to be working. It became dreadfully obvious that as bad as my mind wanted to sprint up the hill, my body had other plans, a system shutdown. I could begin to taste what I used to think was blood, but now understand to be lactic acid in my mouth resulting from my heavy breathing and I knew that I was maxed out.
Even though the dirt road winds its way through the pine tree filled mountains with no Y’s in the road, I had reached a juncture at this point in the run: either I could get discouraged with the reality that I am not able to think myself into sprinting up the hill or I could accept, and even relish, in the pain and discomfort running throughout my body and embrace the pain as part of my mission.

Then something happened that I have never experienced during any painful running session: a smile slowly crept across my face. It was kind of a weird reaction to have, but for some reason I felt very alive and there was a new joy that I found in simply going all out. It was a great feeling to know that I was pushing myself to the max, that at this moment I had looked deep into myself for strength and used whatever I could muster.

I may not have set any records on my long run. In fact, I have had better long runs, in terms of numbers, but I have never had a long run where I learned to embrace the pain like I did that day. To be honest, I usually get pretty nervous before big workouts where I know I will be going through a lot of pain. I realize that the nerves may not go away, but now I know that I can find joy in the most painful moments.  It is hard to describe the joy in going all out, but if you choose to embrace it I guarantee that you will want to go back over and over again.

Being that the marathon is all about pain management. I am always looking for ways to better handle the pain during those last few tough miles. I felt like I did a good job of pushing myself to the max in London. The main thought that helped me there was simply, “do your very best.”

In Beijing I am sure I will be thinking similar thoughts. One thing is for certain; during those final painful miles I will visualize myself back on this dirt road in Big Bear and remember the time I first smiled in the face of pain.

This entry was posted on Thursday, July 3rd, 2008 at 9:09 am and is filed under ryanhall. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.