When You're Stuck In A Race You Never Wanted To Run

“Boy, I’d love to club that lady over the head and steal those water bottles from her armpits.” That’s not a thought that typically crosses my mind, but on a sweltering October day back in 2007, it did. More than once. 

Why? Because I was running the Chicago Marathon during record high temps and they had run out of water. What little remained was being used to revive overheated runners sprawled out beneath medical tents. 

Have you ever driven down the interstate during a blizzard? The type where you can’t see anything but vehicle after vehicle sliding off the road, and you begin questioning why you didn’t stay home because this was clearly a bad idea and it’s only a matter of time before you die, but by golly, you’ve made it this far and you’re not dead yet, so you may as well keep going and hope for the best while also vowing you will never do something this stupid again? 

If so, then you have a pretty good idea how I felt the entire second half of that race. 

“Remember…this is a marathon, not a sprint.” How many times have we heard that expression? So many times I doubt any of us give it much thought other than to acknowledge the task before us will take some time. But what task doesn’t?

We forget running a marathon takes more than time. Even in the best of conditions, when the weather is perfect and there’s water galore, you still hit a point in every marathon when you believe this was clearly a bad idea and it’s only a matter of time before you die. 

Okay, maybe that’s a bit dramatic. But you’ll at least reach a point where the thought of stopping feels way more enticing than the thought of continuing.   

I’ve run two marathons and each time I hit that point right around mile fifteen. Because here’s what happens—you can no longer ignore the fact your legs are tired. They actually started getting tired back at mile thirteen, but you didn’t worry because you were halfway done and had somehow convinced yourself the first half went by so fast the second half wouldn’t be a problem.

But by mile fifteen, it’s a problem. This is the stretch where you have nothing to celebrate. The end seems an eternity away. You’re not even to mile twenty. And you won’t get there for another five miles, which sounds terrible. Because after you reach mile twenty, you still have another five miles to run. And last you checked, five plus five equaled ten.  

Then you hit mile sixteen and things really get depressing. Because back at mile fifteen you’d lied to yourself when you said you had ten miles to go. Now is when you have ten miles to go. You’re not even making progress. 

Especially since when you get to mile seventeen, you do the math again and realize you still have ten miles to go. You officially hate mile seventeen as much as you hate math. And you know mile eighteen won’t do you any favors either.

Finally mile nineteen gives you a glimmer of hope. You’re almost to mile twenty. But then that negative part of you pipes up and says, “So what if you’re almost to mile twenty? You’ve still got to run another seven miles, you fool!”

And this is when you have to make a big decision. Either stop and call it a day, because hey, you ran nineteen miles and that’s a heck of a lot more than most people can say. Or keep going with the full understanding they’ll be carting your dead body off the street on a gurney any minute. 

I know. Decisions, decisions…

My advice? Keep going. Despite how you feel, those last seven miles aren’t going to kill you. (Unless they do. In that case, you probably should have stopped back at mile nineteen. But since we’re going for an inspirational post here, let’s say for the sake of argument they don’t.) 

Keep running. Even when it’s painful. Even when you’re tired. Even when the finish line feels a discouraging amount of miles away. Keep going. 

Right now we’re all running the COVID-19 marathon, a race none of us signed up for. One that won’t even give us a t-shirt for completing. Maybe for some of you the weather isn’t all that bad, but your legs are shot and you want nothing more than to be done. Maybe for others, it feels like the heat index is over a hundred and you’re ready to club people over the head and steal their water bottles because you’re not sure if you can make it another step.   

Either way, keep going. Keep rolling out of bed. Keep trusting. Keep hoping. Keep loving. Keep praying. Because whether it feels like it or not, that finish line is getting closer. So don’t give up. 

And don’t club anyone over the head…unless absolutely warranted.