I’ve been pondering my previous post about fearlessness.
Yes, I got up an hour early one morning for a slow 2.61 mile run to commemorate Kathrine Switzer‘s great achievement, running the Boston Marathon at a time when women were not allowed.
And I got to thinking about my own level of toughness, or lack thereof. So in part to build up my street cred (no, not really), I’m meeting with my ultra-marathon-running friend, Brandess for lunch to help me decide whether to run a full marathon.
I know it’s a huge time commitment and that I’ll have to clear this insane plan with my most-favorite doctor who’s helped me deal with piriformis syndrome so that I am well enough to run and remain active.
But the thought of pushing myself to run the full 26.2 miles is intriguing.
There was a time when a 5k was beyond anything I ever thought possible. Then it was 6 miles. Who runs 6 miles?!
I specifically remember the first time I ran seven with a friend. That was an achievement.
It was Brandess and another Black Girls RUN! teammate who flippantly said that if I could run 7 miles, I could certainly run a half marathon. Um. What?
And, yet, I did. And I didn’t die. Not even close.
So why not a full? Because it’s insane. I don’t have the time. I may not be able to do the long runs without irritating my piriformis muscle. And because it will confirm my family’s suspicions that I’ve finally gone off the deep end.
Regardless of what I decide, just considering running 26.2 miles brings me this close to fearlessness. And wasn’t that the point of the whole exercise?
Have you run a full marathon? Did you regret it? Do you have any input to help me decide?