As I sit here in my apartment, I listen to the sounds of the city with my windows open. It’s much quieter than it is during the day though, the air is nice and cool as well. It’s 1:15 am and while most are in bed, I am awake thinking, reflecting, contemplating, remembering. It’s been an interesting week as I have not done any running for 7 days now. This whole week I have been haunted with the reality of what happened at Chicago last Sunday. The internal chatter, the discontent, it has been eating away at me. I have been wanting to escape these feelings, trying to run, trying to make things “other” than what they are. At times throughout the week it has been so powerful that I would end up taking very long walks through the city with no destination in mind, and I would find myself in these simple moments of awareness where I felt God’s presence with me. As I think back to the race on Sunday I could feel it then as well. I remember saying out loud “what are you trying to tell me here God?”, and I still don’t have the answer to that, but I feel that there is a lesson in all of this somewhere, a gift, something beyond myself that I cannot see at this point.
I remember last fall, this exact time of year and where I was at. I had just run the Twin Cities Marathon in 3:24 and couldn’t have been happier. I had taken a good 20 minutes off my time from 2008 and going into that race I wasn’t expecting to run faster than 3:45. It was at that point I decided to pick up my mileage and start training harder to see what I could do. I set my sights on the Chicago Marathon last winter and committed to train all year with that being the goal for the end of the year. I also decided to run for charity as I really wanted to give my training meaning on a whole different level by making it about something other than myself. I knew I wanted to run a spring marathon as well, I was pretty sure I could break 3 hours by spring, but had no idea I would be in shape to run 2:46 at the Fargo Marathon. After that race things really changed. By the time I started my 16 week cycle of work for Chicago I had a whole new level of dedication.
I asked Kelly from Run N Fun to start coaching me and I was really responding well to the training. The schedule was well structured with speedwork every Wednesday and Saturday, and a long run every Sunday. I also slowed down the pace quite a bit on my easy days which helped a lot with the high mileage I was doing. I did some shorter distance races throughout the cycle to test my fitness and see where I was at. I ran a 5k at the end of July and had hopes of breaking 17 minutes, as I didn’t have any official 5k time under 18 minutes before that. I remember how pumped I was going into that race, I went out fast but not too fast, crossing the first mile in 5:26, my second mile was slightly faster in 5:24, I felt pretty good at that point and just took off running a 5:05 last mile breaking my previous 1 mile PR and crossing the line in 16:33, I couldn’t believe it. The next week I raced a 1 mile road race in St. Paul with hopes of going under 5 minutes, I went out hard going through the half in 2:25 and finishing strong in 4:48. This was a big step for me. Through August and September I keep my weekly mileage pretty high, and actually ended up with a 112 mile week just before my taper. I had some other races that I was happy with, and some I didn’t run as well as I thought I would, but my workouts stay consistent and I feel very confident starting my taper that I am in shape to run between 2:36-2:42.
Everything was right going into Chicago. I had the best and most consistent training I had ever had in my life, and even seemed to time my taper perfectly. I felt ready when I got on that plane for Chicago. I heard it was going to be hot but didn’t think too much about it at the time. We got in Saturday afternoon and went to the hotel to meet Eric. It was all very surreal, I had never been there before and was blown away by how big the city was. Our hotel was downtown pretty close to the starting area. We make it over to the expo and get our packets and check out the scene for a while, there were so many people everywhere it was intense. That night I load up on Pasta at the official pasta party and then walk back to the hotel with Milton. I don’t feel very nervous surprisingly and I just have this comfort in knowing that I did the work 100 percent. I didn’t cheat anything, and whatever happens during the race is beyond my control. That night Kelly stops by to pick up some bottles to give to Eric along the course since he is in the Elite Development field, and offers words of encouragement. Not too much longer after that we all go to bed and I am actually able to even get some sleep.
The next morning the alarm is off at 4:15 am and we all are up pretty quick. I take my usual pre-race shower, then go down to the lobby to get some breakfast. There are already lots of runners down there at 5am doing the same thing. By 6:15 or so we leave the hotel to head to the starting area and I can tell right away that it was too hot for how early it was. As we walk down the dark streets there are tons of people everywhere. I have never been in a race with more than 10,000 people so being in one with 45,000 was a whole different experience. It was a zoo out there. I ended up walking so far to the bag drop area, it was probably close to a mile away from where we started. Then I jogged over to the starting area and got stuck in a huge line just to get into the area for the seeded corrals. I guess people were trying to sneak in there so they were checking people one by one to make sure they had proof on their number. We were packed like sardines in that spot and the sun was out at that point so I started sweating pretty bad. It was pretty intense in the starting area, there were people peeing everywhere out in the open as the lines were so long for the bathrooms, I had never seen anything like that before. I finally get in to the A corral right before they sing the National Anthem and I find Don, give him a hug and tell him that he’s got it, this is his day.
The gun goes off and we start running, it doesn’t take me too long to cross the starting line. I decide to take the first few miles easy to see how I feel in the heat. I run a 6:10 first and second mile and by that point I was already sweating really bad. I decided to take water and Gatorade at every stop and also put water on my head as well. By the 5k I start working my way down to a consistent 6:04 pace and feel pretty locked in to an even rhythm. I go through the 10k in 38:04 and feel good but am definitely starting to heat up. A few miles later I look to my left and realize I am running next to Joan Benoit Samuelson and end up staying with her a couple of miles, it didn’t even seem real. I go through the half marathon in 1:20, still averaging about 6:06 pace. That was right where I wanted to be given the heat because I was still in a position to break 2:40, but things change over the next few miles. I could tell I was slightly slowing and went through the 25k in 1:35 something still averaging about 6:09 pace, but things went downhill very quickly after that. Kelly jumps in with me for a bit to see how I’m doing and I really start to fall apart there. My face felt like it was overheating and I started feeling very dizzy. My pace slows dramatically over the next few miles from 6:22, to 6:45, to a 7:xx minute split. At that point my legs feel like lead and my body continues to overheat. I remember saying to Kelly “this isn’t about time anymore, this is about me finishing without passing out”. He tells me to keep my head up and keep looking forward because every time I look down I feel like I’m falling over. I start walking as I feel like I’m going to pass out and Don comes running by soon after. He gives me a tap on the shoulder to run with him and I just shake my head in complete defeat. I just want to get to that finish line I think to myself, I’ll walk the damn thing in if I have to. It was at this point I said out loud “God, what are you trying to tell me here”. I think about all the people who donated to the charity I was running for and keep moving forward. I walk the next mile and start to feel super light-headed. I turn the corner and remember trying to keep my head up. The sun is shining right in my face and it’s so bright. I can feel myself start to fall apart. I end up walking right into the curb and collapse on the sidewalk. The next thing I remember is being in the wheelchair headed toward the med tent. When the reality hits me that I’m not going to finish I am completely destroyed.
I immediately thought about all the people tracking me back home, and my heart fills with sadness. I thought about all the work I put into this, everything I’ve sacrificed, all the ways my friends and family have supported me. I cannot believe it. My body temp is over 100 and they put a bag of ice on my head. I drink a lot of fluids and after about 20 minutes feel okay enough to get on the next bus back to the staring area. The put all of us in one bus then we ride for 10 minutes to meet up with a different bus and all get in there. Then take a 30+ minute ride back to the starting area. That was the quietest bus ride I’ve ever had in my life. Everyone on there was destroyed as well. Then I end up having to walk back into the finishing area to get my bag I had checked and I can barely walk. I remember the feeling of going against everyone finishing. All these thousands and thousands of people coming through the area with medals on and big smiles on their faces, walking into the arms of family members waiting for them outside the gate. I felt like the biggest failure in the world, like a big joke. Then the dialogue starts to consume my thinking: “see, you’re just a big joke”, “who are you to think that you could do this”. I felt like I had DNF stamped to my forehead and that I didn’t belong. I somehow manage to find my bag and start making my way back to the hotel. I am so completely shot at this point in every way I just want to lay down on the sidewalk and never get up.
I make the most out of the rest of the time in Chicago, and am overwhelmed by the sincere feedback I got from everyone in my life. All the people who sent me messages and called was just unbelievable, but I know the hardest part is ahead. The reality of what happens doesn’t hit me until I get home and am by myself. I know I have to face myself and what I am feeling and that it will take time to process. I had no idea how hard it would be though. I was isolating pretty bad most of the week, not wanting to talk to anyone and just be by myself. By being present with the pain I feel as though I am starting to discover more and more the root of what I have been feeling. This isn’t just about not finishing the race for me, this is about something much deeper. I knew I had felt this way before when I was using drugs, and even long before that, it just took me a while to realize. The problem for me has been a lack of self-acceptance. As I read this recovery reading on self-acceptance I felt like it was describing me perfectly. It said:
“The lack of self-acceptance is a problem for many recovering addicts. This subtle defect is difficult to identify and often goes unrecognized. Many of us believed that using drugs was our only problem, denying the fact that our lives had become unmanageable. Even after we stop using, this denial can continue to plague us. Many of the problems we experience in ongoing recovery stem from an inability to accept ourselves on a deep level. We may not even realize that this discomfort is the source of our problem, because it is often manifested in other ways. We may find ourselves becoming irritable or judgmental, discontent, depressed, or confused. We may find ourselves trying to change environmental factors in an attempt to satisfy the inner gnawing we feel. In situations such as these our experience has shown that it is best to look inward for the source of our discontent. Very often, we discover that we are harsh critics of ourselves, wallowing in self-loathing and self-rejection.” It goes on to say that “A spiritual understanding of self-acceptance is knowing that it is all right to find ourselves in pain, to have made mistakes, and to know that we are not perfect.” I thought about the race and how much of my identity had been caught up in that one day for so long, and the result that I wanted to achieve. I then go on to read “Sometimes we slip into the melodrama of wishing we could be what we think we should be. We may feel overpowered by our self-pity and pride, but by renewing our Faith in God we are given the hope, courage, and strength to grow.” That last line just spoke to me so deeply.
I know if I put my faith in God that I am given the hope, courage, and strength to grow, and that is what I have started to realize tonight as I write about this whole experience. I may not have the answer yet to the question “God what are you trying to tell me here?”, but I do fully trust in the process. Looking back at my life there is no way not to trust. I think back to one of the nights I had overdosed when I was 18, lying in bed sure that I was going to die and how that led to the greatest gift of life and recovery. I think back to losing one of my best friends Rob to suicide and how painful that was, but also how that tragedy brought new people into my life and a whole different level of recovery. I think back to almost 90 pounds ago, smoking a pack and a half a day, and eating fast food 3 times a day and how that was my world. It was through living in that suffering that caused me to take up running a few years ago. I think back over the past year and how much running has given me, not in my times or race results, but in life, and all the wonderful people who it has brought into my world. Through the pain in my life there has always been a gift that has come in ways far greater than anything I could have even imagined possible at the time, and I truly believe that God will use this experience for good as well. As I heard a friend say last night “It’s all spiritual experience”, and I really do believe that. I’ve had some deep insights over this past week and I thought about why I run in the first place, not to define who I am, but to change my perspectives and the way I see life. I have to remember that, and when I forget, I am reminded like I have been all week, and for that I am grateful.
steve storkamp
October 18, 2010
speechless Dave….thank you for sharing. such an inspiration for me.
Steve