“You don’t have to. You get to.”
“You don’t have to. You get to.” I repeated this mantra to myself several times in the hours it took me to run and complete my first marathon. In the 26.2 miles I ran from the historic city of Marathon, Greece to the center of Athens I had to reframe the inevitable moments of discomfort, of which there were many.
I committed to this race late summer of 2022. I recently recovered from an ankle injury that kept me off my feet for roughly two months and took me out of my training for the 2022 New York City Marathon, which I signed up to run in solidarity with a friend. I felt devastated, defeated, and sorely disappointed about having to pull out of that race. After some tears, self exploration, and honesty I admitted to myself that the marathon that was most meaningful to me to participate in was the historic Athens Marathon in Greece, as my family lineage comes from northern Greece. My running joke (no pun intended) is that I know I’m in the motherland when they say my last name better than I do.
At that point it was too late to train and register for the 2022 Athens Marathon due to my injury. Instead, I signed up for a 10k (6 miles) run that took place over the 2022 Athens Marathon weekend. This was a taste of what race day events could feel like: streets lined with crowds cheering, DJs, live bands, and crossing the finish line in the Olympic Stadium in Athens. I was absolutely hooked and on a complete runner's high. There was no doubt that I’d set my sights on the 2023 Athens Marathon.
Leading up to the full marathon for 2023, I signed up for and completed three half marathons which also provided for travel opportunities nationally and internationally. My first half marathon took place in Lisbon, Portugal. And on my 35th birthday, I treated myself to a visit in Jackson, Wyoming where I ran my second half marathon in challenging elevation (think running 13 miles while breathing through a straw). Finally, in July I completed the San Francisco Half Marathon.
Judging from all of this, I often get asked if I’ve always been a runner. Or, people might say that they can hardly run a mile, two miles, three miles. I read this quote recently that resonates and feels applicable here: “Athletes aren't born; they’re made.” I’m no Olympian. I’m not a fast runner, and I would hardly call myself an athlete. No, I haven’t always been a runner; but I have enjoyed running at different stages of my life for fitness and mental health. I have run off and on since my early twenties, taking years long gaps between my runs. More importantly, and especially if you’re considering taking up running in any form, I didn’t wake up one day able to run 26.2 miles. I too started with one, then two, then three miles. As I did on race day, you have to take it one mile at a time.
Let me be clear, however, I’m not saying it was easy – marathon training takes months of commitment and hours of running during your week and weekends (i.e. squeezing in a 10-mile run on a Wednesday and an 18-mile run on Saturday or Sunday). Nor am I suggesting that everyone go out to run a marathon. You do you. Pick your cup of tea, or coffee, or whatever. But the mental gymnastics are much the same whatever scenario you’re in. For me, “You don’t have to, you get to,” reminded me of the privilege it is to have an able-moving body than can walk let alone run. As someone who lives for a daily nature walk and has a very active dog to exercise, those two months last year of not being able to even walk around my apartment humbled the shit out of me. Weekly, if not daily, I think how lucky I am to be able to walk. And now, I feel just as grateful I was able to run a marathon.
Alas, despite 26.2 miles of rolling hills and gradual inclines for more miles than I can count resulting in more exhaustion than I’ve ever felt, a privilege it was.
