Running 26.2 Miles

It's not actually as hard as you might think. My inspirational quote lately has been "Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genuis, power, and magic in it" (J.W. Goethe) because it's true. I don't believe in the cheesy and really condescending type of will power in the wretched movie "The Secret" that Oprah loves so much, but I do believe that once a person really commits to something and to working towards that something, it is very likely to happen. This is, of course, except for things like committing to growing a foot at age 27. That will not happen.

So, once I came home from my first meeting for Team in Training and said to Gabe, "I'm running a marathon," it was done. Once I sent out letters and started to talk to friends and family about training with the LLS, it was really done. I just had to follow my coaches orders for the following five months, wake up on race day, dress, eat and make it to the start . . . and finish.

Looking at my life, a lot of things have felt this way--a cross between certainty, terror, and hope. The things that I wanted most in my life have been accompanied by these emotions--attending Santa Clara, becoming poetry editor and editor for the SCR, traveling to El Salvador and Tijuana with SCU, marrying Gabe, moving with him to San Diego and then Pasadena, attending graduate school, working as an English professor, spending a month in France, and one day I think I'll feel the same about being a parent. This is why I try to convince my students that they should pursue the things that thrill and terrify them, that they should take big risks when they know the reward will be life-changing and soul-enriching.

Carlos asked me for reflections, post-marathon, and here they are:

I was one of 35,000 runners and walkers. There were elite runners who finished in 2 hours and 12 minutes. There were walkers who had to be picked up after ten hours. I finished running slowly towards the end at 7 and a half hours. Beside me there were young, old, middle-aged, skinny, fat; there were disabled runners who were very able; young army men and women ran in boots beside me--there was no type of person I did not see that day. Some were positive, sharing a kind "keep it up." Others were clearly in distress and darkness; it was clear they wanted to stop, but mostly, they kept going. There were many onlookers kind enough to cheer with gusto for us, offer us orange slices, water, a smile. There was Gabe at mile 4, 8, 11, 19 and 26.2 to give me a kiss.

I never felt like stopping. I felt like finishing a lot. At mile 22, when we hit a big incline, I prayed I could be magically transported to the finish, but stopping was not an option. My running partner hit a slump from mile 12-18. For us, that was about 1.5 hours. I think part of it was that she forgot to take her salt packet and skipped a snack. Low blood sugar or sodium will drain your soul right out your ears when you are running long distances. In a way, her slump helped me, as selfish as that sounds. Because we were committed to staying together, I had to suck it up even though my knees were hurting and I was tired, and try to cheer her up. I distracted her by telling her embarrassing stories about myself and asking for her to tell me some of hers. I got her to eat. I stopped thinking about how badly my knees felt.

Miles 20-26 it was my turn to slump. Lesley got me through this, even though I had to walk several of these last miles. She made me laugh and smile for a picture. Smiling does actually cheer you up! We finished with our hands in the air and our legs running.

I called my family in Fremont at mile 24 to hear their voices and I could hear how excited they were. The cheers and faith they had in me propelled me. My in-laws waving signs propelled me.

I cannot describe how good it feels to know that my body can run 26.2 miles. I am not skinny or very strong-looking. I am no model. I am slow. But I can endure. Before that day, our long training days included 18, 16, 14, 12, etc. long runs. I was thrilled the day we hit the double digits. I had never run that far. Now, ten miles is no big deal. It's not extraordinary at all. My whole life I thought something like this was so out of reach, that it was beyond me, but I had never tried. I didn't know what ten miles really were because I had never run them. Running this marathon freed me from a lot of self-doubt. Heck, I think I surprised a lot of people who looked at me and thought, "a marathon?"

There is always someone who will ask, "Did you win?" or "What did you place?" Officially, I placed something like 23,000th, but I did win. I was competing only against doubt and I kicked its ass.

WTF: Part 2.1--Mattel sucks.

So, Mattel decided to jump onto the exploitation bandwagon that is "Girl Power!" with its newest line of matchbox cars. The investor relations page says:

"Polly Pocket™ Polly Wheels™ Cars – Polly Pocket™ makes a HUGE statement with the first ever die-cast vehicles designed just for girls! These candy-colored stylin' mini Polly Wheels™ cars are adorable and include a mini-sized doll for each car. Girls will want to collect them all – there are lots of different unique cars to choose from so girls can race, play and even collect!"

They even have a SUPERCOOL track set that lets girls race to the mall to shop. The winner gets a shopping bag dropped into her trunk.

This is about as blatantly sexist as it gets. There is no cognitive or social benefit to teaching girls that everything they own should be covered in pink scented glitter and revolve around shopping. It's just HUGELY disgusting.