I just went out to run an 8-miler at marathon pace. I knew there were severe thunderstorm warnings for the afternoon, but I didn’t expect the storm to swoop in so early. By mile 3, I was dodging fallen tree branches, pelting rain, thunder that shook my bones and lighting strikes that scared the *** out of me. Luckily I was doing a loop so I could high tail it home pretty darn quick. The kid in me kind of wanted to stay out and experience Mother Nature in the raw, but the adult knew better then to tempt her.
There are other storm clouds brewing around my IT band just five weeks away from my Chicago Marathon. It’s tight as a drum and sending nasty messages down to my Achilles to join in the pain party. I’m doing everything I can to counter act the injury, like torturing myself on a foam roller, getting physical therapy with a stick in my mouth to avoid screaming like in the old Westerns when they have to extract a bullet out of someone’s arm or leg and they tell them to bite down on the stick (as if that will help!) and getting acupuncture. And I remain positive that this will pass in time for my destiny with Chicago. I’ve already put in the requisite long runs, but I have a propensity to angst about the unknowns and the what ifs and even after many, many marathons, I succumb to whining and kvetching.
So all this proves is that even veteran marathoners – who should know better - feel stress and anxiety and worry whether they will get to the start line. But guess what? The storm that drove me home has now blown over and I was so preoccupied with the storm I didn’t realize my running was going pretty well. Maybe I’ll head out for another five miles!
Lesson learned: Take every day as it comes. Training for a marathon is never easy and the plans are not written in stone. We have to listen to our bodies and be smart. That’s the only way to get to the start line.