Fear

What would you do if you were not afraid?

This half-marathon has been a while in coming. Even so, we are still not officially committed. Like a foreign affairs delegation, we have been taking our sweet time deciding, going over every angle, every nuance of the race and of ourselves. Will there be hills? (We don't like hills.) Will we be able to do it? (We've only ever gone 6 miles, and that was tough.) Are we traveling? (Turns out, we're not.) Can our bodies take that much tortuous pounding the pavement? (According to Chris McDougall, it's what we were born to do.)

As I stated in my previous post, we've worked our way up from the very beginning, from sedentary to runner. I'm still waiting to look like a runner. If you saw me in the grocery aisle, I would hope you would be able to tell, at least from the nutritious food choices, or the way I walk a little taller and lighter on my feet. I'm still lacking the sleek running body, and at my age I don't really expect to get it. (But who knows? I just saw an article about an 80-year-old weight lifting woman!) I'm running for fitness. I'm running because I still can.

As for the half-marathon, Eugene has beckoned, and we are answering her call. We've heard that you should travel for a half, that all that training should lead up to something special. We've talked about going to California or Washington, or even Arizona, although the sweep through the apparently dangerous Arizona canyon to pick up stragglers was a little off-putting. We decided, for many reasons, to run in our own backyard.

Eugene is very welcoming to runners. It has the honor of being known as Track Town, USA, and has been home to Alberto Salazar,  Bill Bowerman, and Steve Prefontain. The Eugene half-marathon ends at Hayward Field, where I understand anyone sitting at home can still witness you running to the finish over a live stream. Even so, I hope my loving supporters will be there in person to cheer me on (and perhaps carry me home). If you don't know, Hayward Field was the location for the Olympic trials last year. (I wonder if I will feel like an Olympian running into that venue after 13 miles.)

So the half-marathon is decided.

So is it crazy to register for a marathon when we haven't ever run more than 6 miles? Is it insane to plan for something that is still a year away? I want to run the Big Sur Marathon the year I turn 50. I think that would lessen the blow of being a half-century old. I would run a half mile for every year of my life, and then some. So we've been looking into it. It's beautiful. We're from Oregon, so we know the majestic beauty of the rugged Pacific coastline. It's brutal. There are hills, many of them, not least of which is Hurricane Hill, a tortuous 700 ft climb over a distance of 2 miles. My sister is dubious. Can we do it? We can walk it. I'm more worried about the distance. Twenty-six miles is a heck of a long jog! So I go back to my nowadays mantra: What would you do if you weren't afraid? Am I afraid of running the half marathon? Absolutely! Am I afraid of even thinking about a marathon? Without a doubt! But I know if I don't try, then I absolutely won't be crossing any finish lines. I've made it this far. How far can I go? I'll keep you posted.



"The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotion, spends himself in a worthy cause; who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who have never tasted victory or defeat."

Teddy Roosevelt