Gotta Run

By Amy Coward

I got new running shoes today. I had completely worn through my old ones and I’m training for a marathon. I know you’re thinking I don’t need new shoes, I need a therapist! Why would anyone run a marathon?  Well good question.

I was convinced more than a year ago to train for a marathon to raise money for a charity. So I’ve been down this road before (sorry for the pun). My running buddy and I ran a race in Cincinnati called the Flying Pig which I thought was appropriate since I clearly thought pigs would fly before I would do such a thing. And yet I did.

My first marathon was not pretty. I’m not going to lie. The race brochure failed to mention that Cincinnati is known as the “city of seven hills” and clearly as a newbie runner, I was not really prepared for that. I slogged through, walked most of the last 8 miles and crossed the finish line. But that’s the end of my bragging. There were only two lonely photographers at the finish line by the time I arrived and maybe a handful of volunteers cleaning up. Not exactly the kind of finish I had hoped for. But I got my medal and limped back to my hotel thinking, “one and done” for the marathon on my bucket list.

Now here I go again.

Time heals all wounds I guess and after months passed, I found that first marathon experience nagging at me. I kept thinking about how I trained, what I could have done different and so on. It’s kind of like childbirth. After a while, you forget about the pain (sort of). You decide that little kid is kind of cute and you might want another one.

This time, my running friend and I decided to do a race somewhere flat. Maybe that would make a difference in my performance. We picked Savannah and before I could change my mind, I registered. I then vowed to take my training more seriously. You know, actually getting my miles in, not drinking wine the night before my long run, cross-training. Yikes. For a non-athlete like me, this was a little intimidating.

Savannah’s race may not have hills, but it has a challenge of its own. It’s in the fall. And since you train for 16 weeks or more for a marathon, you’re training in the summer. More specifically, that means you’re running outside in the summer. Ugh. There’s nothing like a sauna-like run in the summer through the streets of Columbia. Believe me, those 4-ounce water bottles you take with you are simply a joke.

This past Saturday, for example, we started our training run at 7 a.m. and had a 12-mile run on our schedule. It was 74 degrees and at least 90% humidity that morning and we were a couple of goofy fools in no time. We filled our water bottles at every available sprinkler and at one house asked a resident to spray us with the hose. We splashed our faces in sprinklers and stumbled our way to the end, totally dehydrated.

What was I thinking? This is crazy. Running long distances just means you have more laundry to do, that you ache all over and that you have toenails no pedicure can fix. But I’m not the only crazy one. Just look around town on Saturday mornings. Runners are everywhere. Dangle a cute t-shirt or a fancy race medal in front of us and apparently we’ll perform like monkeys. Add to that some brightly-colored running shoes and we’re all in for sure. I can’t explain it.

So tomorrow I’ll head out for a 14-mile run as I build up distance for race day. My face will be beet-red, I’ll be sweating like a pig and I’ll limp around the rest of the day. But I’ll check off another training for the big event that looms ahead. I may complain a little about the aches and pains and question my sanity. But I know what I’ll do in the days that follow when the alarm goes off. I’ll get up, put on my new shoes and head out the door. Sanity is on hold. I gotta run.

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