“The gift of realizing that I can handle disappointment has given me more freedom than literally anything else in my life...
...It has taught me to hold what I love and want with a looser grip—knowing as I do now that it could indeed all fall apart, and if that happens it will probably feel horrendous, and yet I will be okay.
That knowing, that I will be okay even on the other side of painful or public failure, it gives me the freedom to try. To actually dream. To experiment. To go after goals that might have no sensible reason to pursue.
Because yes, you might indeed fail at whatever it is you are trying to do in your life right now. You might! It's possible—people fail all the time. And yet you also must remember that you have already survived each of the very worst days of your life so far. And if you fail again it will likely feel awful, but you will be okay.” – Nicole Antoinette
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My two taper weeks leading up to the Loch Ness Marathon were unconventional. I was traveling, coping with jet lag and overall fatigue and burnout from a very full summer of seeing clients, working on my website/business, friends visiting, hiking, camping, family time, AND marathon training. I did my best to give my body rest while also doing some light wandering and exploring- I was in the UK after all! With a few nights of 12-14h of continuous sleep, I decided to prioritize gentle exploration instead of making sure I was completing runs and seeing all the sights.
My run coach Lindsay also assured me that these last 2 weeks will not make or break my ability to complete the Marathon, and the biggest thing to focus on was trust. She said: “Trust that the fitness is there. The work has paid off. Trust that you are stronger than you know. That you can do hard things. Trust that race day adrenaline is like rocket fuel. Trust that you know how to give it your all and what more could you possibly ask for. Trust that you’ve got this. That your body can do it. That your brain can work for you rather than against you. TRUST that you 100% can and will cross that finish line proud as heck, relieved, exhausted, and having had so much fun out there.”
So I did, I worked on trying to trust - in myself, in my abilities, the process and in my coach. I kept coming back to the above words again and again in an attempt to respond to my worries about not being ready, not being strong enough to complete 42.2km in a single day/run.
I met up with my friend Kristy one week before the race and we drove up to Scotland (Edinburgh). We spent the week exploring in the Scottish Highlands (mostly the Isle of Skye) and enjoying some absolutely stunning hikes. Usually the week before a Marathon the focus is staying off your feet, but instead, I was on my feet more than I am during a typical work day (where I am mostly sitting in sessions with clients and doing computer work). We enjoyed road trip tunes, good food, and amazing sights. The day before the race I was definitely starting to feel more anxious while Kristy remained calm and composed. Since I was little, it has been observed that I “wear my heart on my sleeve” so it was very obvious to Kristy I was feeling anxious as the countdown to the start line grew closer. I also sent coach Lindsay an email asking her advice about when to “DNF” – runner lingo for when to decide to quit or give up.
She responded with:
“Fact: there is no room for conversation around DNFs. You call it if it’s dangerous for you to be out there. The end.
More importantly, where we need you to focus right now is on every reason that the race will be wildly successful. Trust your fitness. Trust your experience. Trust that you know your body best and you definitely know that you can and will do hard things.
You’ve put in the work. Sometimes it was a thing of beauty and you surprised yourself with mental and physical strength beyond your wildest expectations. Sometimes it was full of doubt, discomfort, and a losing battle with life vs the plan. But the point is that you did it and the only thing left to do is believe in yourself as you lace up, show up one more time, and put one foot in front of the other… I know you’ve got this. Keep on trusting that. Smile. Relax. Take deep breaths. You can do this.”
So, with that, I did my best to mentally shut down any further mental deliberations around not showing up to the start line or quitting. I would focus on putting one foot in front of the other unless it was dangerous for me to be out there. I knew it was a big undertaking, and that being a slower runner meant that I would be out there for hours after many other runners finished. I was feeling hopeful that I could do this, that I was ready despite my fears and worries that I wasn’t ready.
Race morning involved 4,000 runners getting on buses (QUITE the spectacle!). It took over an hour to ride out to the start line. I continued to eat some food and rest my eyes – I knew I needed to be as fuelled and rested as I could at that start line. When we arrived at the start runners were spilling out of buses, a Scottish bagpipe band was playing and lines for the porta potties were LONG.
Loch Ness is a very long Loch – it’s actually longer than a marathon (Marathon = 26.2 miles/42.2km for my non runner readers). The race route ran along the Loch all the way to a spectacular finish in beautiful Inverness. Despite being a road race, in many ways, it felt like a trail run. Other races I’ve done have run through cities – past businesses, apartment buildings, homes, museums, and various city landmarks/tourist attractions. This race was hilly, going up and down and at times endlessly up, winding under thick canopies of trees and past farm fields (Alpacas! Highland cows! Sheep!). There were of course also stunning views of Loch Ness. The weather was perfect, mostly sunny and overcast, with no rain and even a gentle tailwind!
The first couple kilometers were mostly downhill, and when my watch beeped at me showing me my kilometer pace, I knew I was starting out a smidge (lot) too fast, so I tried to ease up my effort as much as I could, keeping things as easy and relaxed as I could. I decided to walk/hike up the steep hills and let my legs open up and run down the downhills, grateful for many hikes this summer making me feel confident tackling the hills. Other than that, my goal was to keep it at an easy steady run pace for as long as I could. Ideally, I wanted to get halfway (21.1km/13.1miles) feeling okay, because from there on, I knew if I needed to, I could get myself to that finish line – I’ve run 21.1km more times in my life than I can count. I felt confident that if I could get halfway, I knew I could finish and I knew I had the perseverance and endurance to mentally push through 21.1km of struggle if that’s what it came to (and there were plenty of struggle minutes and miles between half way and the finish line).
I reached halfway a lot faster than I anticipated, feeling pretty good and hopeful as I began to tackle the second half of the race.
Just past halfway, my digestive system started to feel uneasy, and I started to feel like I might poop my pants. I didn’t really want to stop and was hoping bathroom lines would be gone, but alas, there was a line and only 1 usable porta potty. So, I waited and waited and waited. I enjoyed the jokes and witty banter of the people around me and was reassured by a text from Valeska that it was okay to stop and better to stop than to poop my pants. Agreed.
During the second half of the race, my friends in Ontario and in BC were starting to wake up (thank you time change) and the cheers, encouragement, song suggestions and general love kept me distracted from the pain and pushing forward. Even when I felt like kms were taking FOREVER, my friends assured me I was doing great, speeding through the course and they were so certain I was crushing it and doing awesome. The other thing I held onto during the race was this pre-race advice from Lindsay:
“Smile your biggest smile! Girl, you are running the friggin Loch Ness marathon!!!!!! WHAT THE WHAT!? What a joy to be able to be there and celebrate the endless magic that running brings to our lives and communities than to get a tour of such a beautiful place with thousands of others by your side, whether running, cheering or rooting for you from afar (me!). Relax, smile, have the most fun of anyone out there and remind yourself that you can absolutely do hard things!”
So, when my mind started to drift into worry, or the physical discomfort got bigger, I would tell myself “have the most fun of anyone out there” – that always prompted me to smile, often to look around and soak in where I was and how lucky I was to be there in that moment, on the side of Loch Ness. Sometimes that prompted me to say something to another runner, and a few times that sparked conversation and a fun few hundred meters of cheering each other on and celebrating being out there, doing this really cool thing.
In the end, I really did have so much fun out there, and I am so grateful that Kristy wanted to spontaneously sign up for this race and have a week-long Scottish Highland adventure with me.
I crossed the finish line sore, tired, and so so proud of myself. Proud of my resilience. Proud of how much joy and grace and forgiveness I can bring to myself and my fellow runners during tough moments. That's the goal, anyway—to complete the marathon, yes, but more than that, to do it from a place of gratitude and wonder.
Mission accomplished.
Life is hard. Running is hard. Life is also joyous and beautiful, and running often is for me as well. I feel so lucky to be cheered on and celebrated by so many amazing friends and family. So grateful.
In terms of what’s next, for now, I am not sure. As I type this it has been exactly 3 weeks since I crossed that Marathon start & finish line. I took 2 weeks completely off running: focusing on rest, gentle walks, and a whole bunch of computer work because as a 1 woman business, a busy summer + 2 weeks away there has been a whole lotta catch-up upon return. This past week I got back into some strength training and tried a spin class and a little 3k walk/run. I was really sore post spin/strength/run this week so a massage on Friday and rest this weekend has been good for my body. Summer hiking season is officially over.
Going forward I am planning on playing around with different activities: spin classes, short day hikes, short runs, maybe some occasionally swimming, yoga classes, and rock climbing. I will definitely continue to work towards my goal of being able to do a full push-up. I am looking forward to cooler weather, cozy clothes and blankets, and books and movies. I did toss my name in the London 2023 Marathon Lottery. Results will be live tomorrow (Oct 24). It is HIGHLY unlikely that I will get in, but who knows, maybe I will. Either way, no matter what comes next for me running-wise, the rest of October and all of November will be about more rest, ease, and a mix of playful movement/shorter runs. As Lindsay reminded me yesterday:
“While you may feel recovered, you can’t possibly have fully recovered mentally or physically (or socially, or in interests outside of running, or, or, or…)” – so I'm going to really dig into this over the next 4-6 weeks and go from there!"
Talk soon,
Monica
PS. Oct 24th update: I did not get into the London Marathon Ballot/Random Draw. I have some thinking and feeling to do around what feels fun and exciting next in life and with the sport of running.
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