Log #40: Why Do I Run Marathons?

As I was huffing and puffing my way around the track this morning, I ran past a guy wearing a shirt that said, "Never again... until the next one." It reminded me of something I told my girlfriend a few days after running the Boston Marathon back in April.

"I'm done with the marathon thing."

I lasted about 1 week before I started to get the itch again. Without a the threat of 26.2 miles hanging over my head like a piano, I can't maintain any sort of workout routine.

Allow me to get a little bit philosophical here.

Why in the world is it enjoyable to run a distance that literally causes your legs to begin self-destructing? Why, after being very sore for days after a race, would I decide to do it again?

The best way I can think to explain it is this: I wake up 5 days a week and go to work. My work involves sitting in front of a computer for 9 hours. It doesn't really matter what I'm DOING at the computer, but my job is the same as millions of other people in this country. We sit at a desk and use a computer for half of our waking hours. The human body isn't supposed to sit still like this. Look at the obesity rate in the U.S. It's ridiculous. Although I really do enjoy my job, the fact of the matter is that I spend at least 50 hours a week sitting in a chair staring at a computer screen.

When I first got into the workforce, I quit exercising. It wasn't an all-of-the-sudden thing, I just gradually stopped doing it because I was working all day and hanging out with my buddies at night. It wasn't until I gained about 30 pounds that I realized I felt like shit, I looked like shit, I had trouble sleeping, my back began having awful problems, and I was tired all the time.

I had several bouts of "I'm gonna get back in shape!!!" that would last from a few days to a couple of weeks, but never longer than that. The problem, I found, is that I am very good at rationalizing the decision to skip a workout, or eat a big junky meal, or sleep a little later. Without someone putting a gun to my head, I wasn't going to kick my ass the way it needed to be kicked. So, I signed up for a marathon.

All of the sudden, there was an anvil hanging precariously over my head. One way or another, I would have to propel myself 26.2 miles, and if I didn't train I would be in huge trouble. With the race looming, I had all kinds of motivation to train. In the first 3 months I dropped about 15 pounds, and I haven't looked back since.

So for me, the marathon is a reason to get up in the morning. It's something that makes damn sure I will be keeping in shape, because if I don't, the marathon will devastate me. It also has the added bonus of being a very cool notch on your belt, and a self-esteem boost like nothing else.

With all that said, my day off of training yesterday completely rejuvenated me. I got up, went out into the cold, ran to the track, and did this:

1600m @ 6:41
1600m @ 6:34
1600m @ 6:24

I feel like a champ. Sunday's 18 mile run will be my bitch.