I’m now at the point in marathon training where my distances on Sundays hit their biggest numbers. Three of our runs are 29K long, and 2 of them are 32K long. Today was our first 29K run. Yesterday, when I received a copy of the route that I’d be running this morning I started feeling a little bit apprehensive. The route took us way out into the countryside from which there really wasn’t any quick way out if there was any reason to bail. Also, the idea of running 4 hours was freaking me out. Sure, God knows that if I want to run a marathon I’ll be out there for a longer period: probably somewhere between 5 and 6 hours. Even so, four hours is a damn long time. The sour cherry on top of all of this was the thought that I’d be running the full thing alone.

In order to mentally digest the route, I route it all out on a sheet of paper. I listed the path, turn by turn. I wrote down the estimated distance covered at each turn. I also used Google Maps street view to get a good idea of what I’d be seeing. All of that helped to ease my mind. Also, I put the run into perspective. Two weeks ago I covered my 26K run well enough. If I could tap into that source of running Zen that I did last time, I’d be fine. Besides, what’s another 3K on top of that?

As we all gathered for a quick briefing before leaving I just stood in silence, pondering what the day would bring. It was breezy, but the sun was shining brightly. I was glad that I slapped on sunblock and brought sunglasses. Before I knew it we were off. Immediately I felt like the whole group was running a bit faster than usual. I chose to have none of that, so I took my time. They pulled out far ahead, and really, after the first 2K I had lost sight of them. I’m used to running alone, but today seeing how quickly I lost sight of them was hard. It didn’t matter though. I mean, what was I going to do? Just turn back? No. I knew they route and was determined to cover the same route they were doing. At around 3.5K I crossed paths with two of my previous running coaches in the half marathon clinic. They expressed concern saying that I shouldn’t run alone. Well, in an ideal world that wouldn’t be the case, but I can deal with that. I told myself that if I keep my focus I’ll be fine. When we parted, I started to feel even lonelier, but again I set that aside and decided to just focus on my body.

When I got to the farthest eastern point I felt like I was way out on the edge of town. I started heading north and there was no sidewalk, so I ran on the side of the road, always conscious of the occasional car that passed by. Off in the distance, I could still make out housing developments, but man, they seemed far. A couple of kilometres north and the scenery became more farm-like. Oh man. I didn’t let it scare me though. During a run, I’m generally successful at keeping my mind clear, or occupied enough to not let unnecessary things creep in. People often suggest that I run with music to keep myself occupied. Personally, I don’t like doing that because I want to maintain a level of awareness of my surroundings. As well, I need to be able to focus on my body’s warning signs instead of focusing on earphone cords, or songs that I don’t want to listen to. So what do I think about? Sometimes I focus on what’s aching and whether it’s serious. Other times I have an ongoing dialogue with myself with reassuring messages.

“Jason, you’re strong.”
“You’re getting sloppy. Check your posture.”
“Of course you’re tired. Work through it.”

All of that helps. When I’m not thinking of any of that, I might end up singing songs in my head that would be on my iPod. It works. The time flies by with all of that. I actually find a bit of strength in solitude. I can’t afford to be weak when I’m running on my own. At around 14K I started smelling cows, and for whatever reason I figured that it would be a great place to pass gas. I started farting loudly out in the countryside. I mean, everyone was far ahead; no one would hear me. Just out of curiosity I looked behind and I saw another running a few hundred metres back. Oops. It was probably far enough such that he wouldn’t hear anything, but I still felt mildly sheepish. I laughed it off though and picked up the pace to create some distance. Funny…I never saw him again. Even though I started out slow, I picked up the pace from about 7K onward. It was a decent pace (for me) and I felt strong enough.

I started feeling a bit of killer fatigue at 23K and I felt myself slowing down. I knew I had the energy to keep going though, so I focused my thoughts on my legs for a while. I knew they were tired and kind of achy, but I didn’t feel that my forward motion was being impeded. As long as I had the energy, I could continue moving. This was the running Zen state that I felt two weeks ago. I tapped into it again. That last 6K flew by.

When I got back I saw a couple of other runners from my clinic stretching by the side. I couldn’t help but cheer loudly. Before my run I was afraid that I’d be a blubbering idiot, but no, I was completely proud and ecstatic.

So, at this point I’m no longer scared of my 30K race in a few weeks. Nor am I scared of the 32K runs coming up. The full marathon is still giving me a bit of apprehension, but I can deal with that.

Sleep calls.