April 21, 2024
Today's the day. It's one of those keystone dates by which we mark our lives. It's the London Marathon! Fourteen years ago, my partner and I sat huddled around a computer screen. None of the neighbors were awake and they wouldn't be for hours. Across the pond, the London Marathon was kicking off as the timer on our coffee pot started our first morning brew. It was 4AM. Sipping our coffee, following Twitter feeds and refreshing the online tracking, we felt the emotional ups and downs of runners we'd never met but felt that we somehow knew.
Six months before, after weeks and weeks of training, I'd finally done it. I'd run my first mile. It was slow. It was painfully slow but I'd done it. I'd run a mile, a mile without stopping, and I was well chuffed. As with many new runners, I immersed myself in all things running, including following running threads on social media. Through those threads, we became connected to runners all across the United Kingdom, following their training, talking with them about the miles they logged, the places they ran, and their lives beyond running.
There we sat. Glued to our computer, completely enthralled by the first of many London marathons. Completely elated by the experience of tracking our runners and their tales of trial, tribulation, and triumph, I entered the lottery for the 2011 London Marathon. It wasn't meant to be. Rejected. I ran the Pittsburgh Marathon instead.
I find myself marking the passage of time, year after year, not by my birthday as most people do, but by the running (or in my case, non-running) of the London Marathon. We boot up the computer, flip on the tele and scramble for the best streaming coverage online. We cheer. We reminisce. We talk about those runners across the pond, how they've touched our lives and left us forever changed. Some we still follow and chat with online. A few we've met up with. Others we've long since lost track of.
Year after year, I've thrown my hat into the ring. The first few years, I thought, "that's ok. It's good that I didn't get in. I'll be fitter next year. I'll be faster next year. It'll make it all the better." Eventually that turned into, "if I can only get in, it'll be the boost I need to start running again." Followed by, "well, it's probably for the best. I'm 70 pounds heavier, passed middle age, and I haven't run in ages. I probably couldn't do it anyway."
The last few years have taken their toll; a job change, the pandemic, multi-cross country moves, a breast cancer scare and finally, two separate allergic reactions to colonoscopy preps. The last of which almost killed me. I'll never forget laying in a hospital bed, all alone, late at night, fading in and out of sleep (or possibly consciousness) listening to the blood pressure machine alarm repeatedly. As the nurse injected something into my I.V. she said, "I've given you something to help get your blood pressure up. We've got to get it up." I sunk back deeper into the bed and thought, "this really isn't how I wanted to die, from a fuckin' colonoscopy prep."
There's something about almost dying that really makes you take stock of your life. I grappled for weeks with feelings I never knew that I had. I thought a lot about my life; what I've accomplished, who I've loved, where I've been, what's been left undone, unseen, unsaid. As I recovered from the reaction and made peace with my reflection of my life, a few things became abundantly clearly.
I can't imagine loving anyone as much as I love my partner. They inspire me daily and are truly the best thing that's ever happened to me.
When you think you're going to die, work/career suddenly doesn't seem very important. That's because it's merely a means to an end, for me at least. I am not my job.
I've never been happier, calmer, healthier or more at peace than when I ran.
I'm going to do the London Marathon. I don't know how yet but it's going to happen.
After nearly 10 years of not running, I entered the lottery for the 2024 Chicago Marathon. On December 7, 2023 I received the "application accepted" email letting me know I got in. I....got...in. I'm running the 2024 Chicago Marathon.
It's going to be a wild ride going from essentially the couch to the Chicago Marathon in less than a year. I've always been an "unlikely runner." If you stick around, we'll likely talk more about that in the future. For now, I'm an "unlikely runner" because I'm truly going from being an obese sofa surfer who's shell shocked and overwhelmed by the last few years to a marathoner. I'm old(er). I'm fat. I'm also going to make it happen. Not only that, I'm going to run the London Marathon. I don't know how yet but it's going to happen!
Perhaps it's foolish or even arrogant to think that I can not only go from the couch to the Chicago Marathon in less than a year but that I can also get into and complete another Abbott World Major Marathon 6 months later. Maybe it is foolish. I don't know. What I do know is that the universe is conspiring to make our dreams come true and I still have an awful lot of living to do.
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