Never. Ever. Ever. Give Up.

One last post before the ultimate test.  I don’t know how to explain my current state of mind; the best I can come up with is jittery.  My mug of Caribou coffee (brewed strong) may be a contributor, but even without the caffeine high I think I would feel the same.  My mind has been racing all week.  I just want to scream into a pillow!

18 weeks.  455 miles.  That’s a hell of a commitment for ONE day.  And I can’t even put the mental commitment into a quantity.  I keep asking myself how I managed to stay on track and keep up with this training schedule.  I came to an obvious conclusion.  The answer to that question is YOU.  I guarantee that if I had not been running this marathon for NCAPDA and had not had all of the support from you, I would not be leaving for DC in the morning.  I would have given up many weeks ago.

When I moved to Wayne, WV at the end of my sophomore year of high school, I was solely a basketball player who didn’t mind the conditioning part of the season.  I didn’t pick of cross country and track until my junior year, and even in track I was a sprinter.  Cross country challenged me to run only 3 miles, and boy did I think that was a challenge!  I’m pretty sure I only completed 2 races my entire high school career without walking.  My 5K interest peaked during my college career but never went much past that.  So, to say I’ve now successfully completed 2 half marathons, a 20-mile run, and hope to complete a 26 mile 385 yard run still seems foreign to me.

I’m a believer in being well prepared and sticking to a training schedule was the best and only way for me to successfully prepare for the Marine Corps Marathon (which is Sunday *eyes wide & teeth clinched in a strained smile*).  Physically, I only endured a few hiccups along the way with a sprained ankle and typical post-run soreness.  Mentally, after a few breakdowns, I grew stronger.  I learned how to entertain myself for hours upon end with just music and my mind to keep me company.  I learned how to argue with myself (I thought I was only half crazy, but after Sunday, I think I’ll be fully crazy) and sometimes win.  Most importantly, I learned to push myself which in turn gave me the confidence I’ve been lacking for so long.

In the recent years, I’ve considered myself a runner but not really anything special, not an elite.  My opinion hasn’t changed; I know I will be a slow marathoner, but I’m okay with this because at least I will be a marathoner.  And that means something to me.  I will never be an elite runner, and honestly, I don’t want to be.  Yea, I would still like to beast a 5K every now and then, but all-in-all, I’m happy just to run.  I run for the pleasure and enjoyment that I get from it, and for me, that means running at a comfortable pace that doesn’t drain me or potentially injure me.

The problem is I’m an extremely competitive person, so it’s hard not to run fast (in the beginning).  But throughout this training, I’ve learned the pace I’m physically capable of running for 26.2 miles, and it’s slow (according to professional marathoners).  That bothered me at first.  I thought what’s the point of running, if I’m not going to be anywhere close to the front of the pack.  But during this tapering period (approximately 3 weeks), I’ve reflected upon my past.  Look how far I’d come.  That is a win for me.  To be able to say I committed to something wholeheartedly without holding back, doing the best that I possibly good, and creating something special, something helpful out of it along the way.  That. Is. Victory.  (Ah, I’ve never actually expressed this in words, and it’s making me tear up!)  I couldn’t beat that for the world.

As race day draws near, I keep this thought in mind.

It’s very hard to understand in the beginning that the whole idea is not to beat the other runners.  Eventually, you learn that the competition is against the little voice inside you that wants to quit.

No matter where I finish on Sunday, I will just be happy to finish and give the boot to that little voice in my head.  Thank you for your continued support; it means more than I could ever express.  Thank you for joining the battle against the prescription drug abuse epidemic, a cause that is very near and dear to my heart.  For the loved ones we have lost to this epidemic, I will run.  For the many fighting this battle, I will run.  And. I. Will. Not. Give. Up.