Last year I wrote with great excitement about my brother-in-law's decision to train for his first marathon. He reached out to me for some virtual "coaching" and support, and it was deeply inspiring to watch him getting stronger and faster, and learning to appreciate what running added to his life. Unfortunately he was derailed by both a particularly harsh winter, and then an injury, and had to back out of the Pittsburgh Marathon. He'd been so excited to race in his hometown, and for his son to watch him cross that finish line. Making the decision to run a marathon was just one of many big changes he had made in his life, and (since I'm prone to this kind of heady thinking) represented to me the beginning of a whole new way of living.
Encouraging him to stop training was a very difficult thing for me to do, for fear he wouldn't be willing to pick it back up, that old ways of living would seep back in. I know how easily it happens. And selfishly, I was worried about losing a running buddy, since I no longer have any other runners in the family. (My brother used to run, but stopped several years ago. He's since become quite a yogini, though, and continues to inspire me.) Having someone to talk running talk with during family gatherings, and to get up early to run with on the rare occasion that we find ourselves in the same city, had been a lot of fun. I was concerned - for both of us - that his injury would feel like a betrayal of sorts, that he'd say to himself that "running just isn't for me," and turn his back on this sport that I care so much about.
As usual, I was overthinking it.
He took my advice and stopped training, let himself get healed, and got some new shoes. He signed up for the Chicago Marathon, and before I knew it, he was back! All of that worrying I did for him? As usual, a waste of my energy.
Training hasn't gone smoothly for him. He's wrestled with the challenge of fitting long workouts and adequate rest into an already-full life. At the peak of training, he developed a respiratory infection. All the normal stuff of life that conspires to make marathoning harder than it already is. But he stuck with it, and even though he didn't get in all of the mileage that we'd hoped for, he never once lost his way. As we adjusted his goals and expectations, he remained excited about the experience, and confident about race day. He continues to appreciate everything that running has done for him, physically and mentally, and although training for another marathon is probably not in his very near future, he's already signed up for some half-marathons in 2015. He doesn't line up at that start until tomorrow morning, but as far as I'm concerned, he has already completely and totally nailed this thing.
I had so much to learn this past year about perseverance, and maintaining confidence in the face of disappointment. Being a part of my brother-in-law's process was a huge part of that journey. I learned the value of getting out of my own head, and just getting into my running shoes. Thanks for an important lesson in being fearless, and jumping back in with both feet. You don't really know yet just what you're in for out there on the streets of Chicago tomorrow, but I do. And it's going to be awesome. Because you're going to make it awesome.