“Don’t get hurt!”
Photo generated with the assistance of AI
It’s marathon week – again! Exactly one year ago, I posted my final thoughts at the end of my blog series about training for the New York City Marathon. I ended it by declaring that I was ready. Yet just three hours after that post dropped, my heart was broken. I tripped in the dark on a short, easy run and my hamstring tore. At first, I thought it was a massive cramp and that an ice bath would help. But, of course, it didn’t, and within the hour I was crying on my couch as I could not even find a comfortable position in which to rest. I knew it was over even before my doctor told me those words later that day. Ever since that moment, I’ve been working to prepare for this year’s marathon. I trained differently this time. I did not follow the traditional 18- or 20-week program that begins in mid- to late June. Instead, my training began on day one of my recovery. I did far more strength and stability training this year, as my physical therapist provided me with a routine to make me “bullet-proof.” But as this week approached, there’s one constant remark I heard from nearly everyone I know . . . “Don’t get hurt!”
I laugh every time I hear it. I know the sentiment comes from the genuine connection so many felt with the heartbreak I experienced, but I chuckle because it also comes without any visibility into what I’ve done this year to avoid that outcome. I smile because, while I know that the outcome is unknown until I prove that I can cross that finish line, I am also certain that what happened last year won’t happen this time. And then this happened . . .
Déjà vu?
I’m in the tapering phase of my training. My long runs are finished. Two weeks ago, I completed my 20-mile run. The following week, I ran 13. This past Saturday, my target was just seven miles. It’s an amazing feeling once 20 is finished to know that the body will get to recover over the remaining three weeks. But of course, anything can still happen. This is when it happened last year. And as I was closing in on finishing seven miles this past Saturday, I tripped again!
It was not in the dark this time, as was the case when I didn’t see the step a year ago, but once again, an uneven pavement just got me as my body prepared for impact. My entire body went on alert as I braced myself for the possibility of a fall. The past two years of training flashed before my eyes during this all-too-familiar experience. But this time was not the same. At the point where, one year ago, my hamstring popped as it was primed to do after weeks of soreness, my body reacted differently. Certain muscles kicked in this time that immediately stabilized me as I kept running. All of the forward T’s, single-leg squats, Romanian deadlifts, pogo jumps, and slack lining that I did throughout my recovery and training just paid off! I had just taken the bullet I’d prepared for all year and survived unharmed.
The difference between last year and now is stark. When training was winding down a year ago, my body felt as if it had been training for a marathon – or so I thought. I was sore in many places, and my body begged for the three weeks of recovery that tapering provides. This year, however, went by without any soreness or pain. When I finished my 20-mile run, my body felt as fresh as when training season began. This is what training for a marathon should feel like!
In no way am I foolish enough to think I am injury-proof. Sometimes shit happens, and it sucks when it does. But tragedy doesn’t define us; how we respond to it does. Over the past year, I turned my pain into my power. The injury that so many of my supporters have seen as the defining moment of last year’s journey did not defeat me, nor did it weaken my spirit. In the end, it strengthened me and prepared me to do much more than I would have had I never been hurt.
A year ago, I wondered, “Am I Sisyphus?” in reference to the Greek mythology figure who was condemned to pushing a boulder up a hill for eternity as he failed just as he was about to reach the top each time. Writing that blog motivated me. It prepared me – not for another heartbreak or failure as I try this again – but to push the boulder up the hill differently this time. I learned from the agony. And while there’s surely more to learn, unlike Sisyphus, I was not about to simply do the same thing over again expecting a different result. Will I get the boulder to the summit this time? We’ll know in just a few more days. If I do, I know after tripping on Saturday’s run that it’s because of all I learned from last year’s experience. That moment of panic that sent images of last year’s failure racing through my mind turned out to be just what I needed. Nothing else could have better shown the progress I made. Am I bullet-proof? Certainly not. But this time, I was at least able to take the very bullet that had killed my dream last year. In some messed-up way, I needed that!
Aaron
PS: For those who want to track me on race day, download the New York Road Runner’s app here.
My bib number is 55023, and my start time is 11:30 AM.