I will be running a marathon this coming Sunday, it might be during a race, the Edmonton Marathon, or not.
Nothing is certain, and recent travel rumblings may affect my flight from Vancouver to Edmonton. I have back up options, so hopefully all will be worked out in time, and not expensively, so I will be on time to line up with more than a few thousand fellow marathon runners in downtown Edmonton to run our hearts out for however long it takes to reach the finish line. However, if I don’t make it to the official starting line, for whatever reason, I will still run 26.2 miles on Sunday, because the trick and truth of it all is that there is no finish line, except thee finish line, but the line that serves at the end of a race is just a sign to slowdown, rejoice, and remember why we had the guts to start.
Vancouver marathon finish Line photo.
The reason I race marathons is to carve out space to spend uninterrupted time with fears, weaknesses, pain, loss, light, liberation, disgust and pride with liquids and smells my body creates when gliding and grinding gears, feeling fits and urges to stop and surge more often than my brain can compute, but my heart often takes the wheel quickly, typically around mile four, which allows my mind to let go, observe, and encourage my body to simply feel and follow the flow of its intuition and believe that it can do anything, i.e. survive.
When the finish chute appears, signaling the end is near, and I can make out the race clock turning over numbers as my legs are barreling toward ascension and destruction, equally, nothing matters except accepting that the world will keep turning whether the time on the clock is over or under what I want to see; the outcome does not matter, but the high or low sensation is real. I will feel relieved and defeated, proud and disappointed, exhausted and eager to try again.
I run to enhance my fitness, to express stress, and because I enjoy it. I race marathons to learn about myself, to be uncomfortable, to grow stronger through that discomfort, to explore what my body can do, to appreciate how amazing it is, how precious and miraculous life is, to want more and be grateful for it all.
Regardless of the unknown travel ahead, woes and/or adventures, I will be spending time on Sunday morning tallying my sixty-seventh dalliance of running 26.2 miles.
To be continued…