In an effort to escape the feeling of melancholy that has come over me, I have decided to reflect on my completion of yesterday’s 113th running of the Boston Marathon. As in marathons past, the “Post Marathon Blues” have set in. I am experiencing a feeling of sadness and uncertainty. On the one hand, I am sad, because an event that was a year and a half in the making has come and gone, and on the other hand, there is uncertainty because I am unsure as to where to go next from here.
Once you get into the running game, sooner or later you find out about the legend of the Boston Marathon-the Super Bowl of running. And not too long after that, qualifying for the marathon becomes a personal mission. I was no exception. I remember setting my sights on qualifying after completing my first marathon. I achieved my goal when I completed my third marathon in 3:10:47. I had made the cut off by 12 seconds. Thirteen months later I lined up at the starting line in Hopkinton, Massachussetts.
Three hours and forty minutes after lining up at the starting line, I crossed the finish line on Boylston street in downtown Boston. My body was tired both physically and mentally. Despite starting the race in a good way and crossing the halfway point on pace for a new personal record, the harsh New England terrain tooks its toll and forced me to slow down considerably. Nasty cramps caused my pace to deteriorate from seven minutes to eight minutes and twenty seconds per mile. Completing a marathon is no small feat and to do it in 3:40 is something that many people would be very proud of. However, I failed to reach my own personal goal, and that failure is glooming over me.
So do I feel melancholic due to my performance? I don’t know. As I stated before, I always feel sadness the day after a marathon. I even felt it after my Boston Qualifying race. Perhaps what I am experiencing is a deeper emotion and a more profound feeling about my existence than my current running form.
Allow me to elaborate. I usually spend between three and four months preparing for a marathon. Within that time frame goes a lot of hard work and sacrifice. I am talking about waking up at 5 in the morning to run in freezing conditions, not going out so that you are fresh for a long run the next day, spending time in the gym to physically prepare your body, and drinking so much water that a quarter of your day is spent in the bathroom. Once you start training, before you realize it, one month has gone by. And then a second one. And then a third one. Out of nowhere, the race is just days away. One day it comes and three hours later it is gone. History. After those three hours and months of training you are left with a piece of metal, a sheet of what looks like aluminum, and if you are lucky- a cup of beer. The piece of metal is really all that you have to show for the hard work that you put in over those three to four months. Because, at the end of the day, no matter what personal goal you achieved, you did not win the race. Running is weird like that. Weird in the sense that we celebrate our achievement despite not winning nor being the best. So what is the point of running the race in that case? Why put in all of that effort when chances are that you will never be one of the best? The logical thing, and perhaps the lesson that we ought to derive from running, is that we need to take the effort and dedication that we put into training for a marathon into our own professional lives. To find that which we excel in and become the elite athlete in that competition. Unfortunately, marathon running is a vicious cycle that marathoners such as myself cannot escape. We are perpetually intent on improving our time. The end of a marathon does never fully bring true satisfaction, since there is the deep desire to do it again, but faster. And thus we are stuck in a quixotic quest.
Right now I am trying to decide on where to go from here. Do I want to keep running marathons or do I want to call it quits? I definitely want to return to Boston. The atmosphere was amazing and being a part of the event was truly special. Unfortunately, my qualifying time will not be eligible next year, which means that I would have to requalify. So if I decide to run Boston again, I would need to do another marathon in between. The question is, do I want to make that commitment? Would a good showing at next year’s Boston marathon truly satisfy me? Or will I once again have the post-marathon blues and revisit the emotions that I am experiencing today? Perhaps the time and effort will be better spent in some other avenue. However, running is too big a part of me to give it up now.
And so this is where I stand right now. Sad about the Boston experience being over and unsure as to where to go from here.
