A Marathon is Life

 

I recently read a post where the author compared some life events to running a marathon. I’m guessing that he never ran a marathon. I’ve completed five since I started my running journey in 2016 at 59. I’m 67 now and as long as G-d gives me strength I hope to complete many more. From my perspective there really is nothing in my life experience that compares to running a marathon. I’ve planned events for 400 people, I’ve done Pesach many many times, I built a software company. Nothing I’ve done can physically and emotionally match running 26.2 miles.

I would say that we should look at it the other way around from the authors perspective. That is, rather than comparing life to a marathon we should use the marathon as a model to help navigate life.

Let me explain. A marathon is 26.2 miles. But that is only the tip of the iceberg. What the spectator is seeing when they watch and cheer the runners is actually the end of the marathon. The real marathon started months before race day. In my case, I start training 4-6 months before race day. I’m pounding the pavement when most people are hitting their snooze buttons. I’m running in the snow, intense cold, rain, and in intense heat. I’m running 6-8 miles a day and 13-20 miles on Sundays. It’s grueling. Sometimes I don’t even know why I do it. As runners say, "Running is a mental sport and we are all insane"!

The truth is that running marathons has taught me so many things. It’s taught me what persistence means. Crossing the finish line of my first marathon taught me the meaning of mind over matter. I’ve also learned about patience. No one wakes up one morning and runs 26.2 miles. It takes months of running incrementally increased distances. The reality is that “The marathon is hundreds of miles, the finish is 26.2”. And last but not least it’s taught me that there really is no such thing as “I can’t”.

But most of all it shuts down the voice of doubt in my head that keeps saying “You can’t, you are too old, you are going to get injured etc etc.”. When I cross the finish line that voice of doubt changes to the voice of “Mazel Tov! I knew you could”. Then and there I realize that is probably why I run marathons.

  

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