It feels like I was here a year ago. In the middle of a long run not knowing where to go. Except this time my route wasn’t blocked by sheets of ice, nor did I hear the firing of cannons from Capitol Hill.
Still, I felt directionless.
There were too many occurrences during my 16-mile run on Sunday that I wondered where I was going – perhaps not in the literal sense, maybe not even in that of the figurative sense. I simply struggled to get my mind focused. On a simple out-and-back my thoughts seemed to gyrate in every single direction and I had to wrangle them all back.
That’s one of the many challenges of training for a marathon. It’s not about the physicality of enduring 16 miles, it’s about the emotional and mental toll it takes. For those who’ve never done it before: 16 miles is a long time to yourself, especially if (like me) you don’t listen to music. That’s a long, long time with just your thoughts.
Often, it’s not a pleasant experience.
And sometimes they go every which way. Sometimes they’re directionless. And then, all of a sudden, you don’t know how to get back. How do I stay grounded? How can I get through the rest of this?
All of this made it difficult to enjoy my surroundings in Rock Creek Park, the DC Zoo, the Tidal Basin and National Mall. And, for the first time in a long long time, I did not wave hello to any runners – even the ones I recognised. I simply looked straight ahead, staring at nothing.
Nor did it help that my Garmin watch was roughly 0.5 miles off. It might sound insignificant, but it’s extremely frustrating to run 16 miles (half at an easy pace, half at full marathon pace), when your pace is not being correctly measured. Also, I ran closer to 16.5 miles or so all things considered. It sucked.
And then, of course, that is when the doubts creep in. I ask myself, “Can I really do this for another 10 miles?” But how can I answer that when I don’t really know how fast I’m going? At the same time, I’m trying to tell myself that perhaps this could be good practice for when running a marathon is closer to running 27 miles than it is 26.2 miles.
And then, at the same time, these other thoughts swirl inside the brain. And, let me tell you, it was excruciatingly difficult to bring myself back. It was a bigger challenge than the run itself. At two miles into my 16-mile run on Sunday I asked myself how much longer I could keep putting up with it.
Suddenly the wrist watch beeps and the run’s over. Sixteen miles it tells me.
I occasionally thought of Tottenham.
If I can endure a 16-mile run in freezing temperatures like this and have to deal with the mess of thoughts I have no choice but to contain, then surely Tottenham can beat Sunderland at home.
Right? Right?
The game ends in a draw, 1-1. I nurse the blister that covers one-third of my middle toe, and disappear into the cold.
Fitzie’s track of the day: Can’t Find My Way Home, by Blind Faith
And now for your links:
BBC: “’Struggling Frank trapped in gilded cage at joyless Tottenham’”
The Athletic ($$): “Tottenham Hotspur have £8m bid rejected by Santos for left-back Souza”
Alasdair Gold: “Every word Thomas Frank said on Brennan Johnson transfer, Luca Williams-Barnett, Tel and Ben Davies”
The Standard: “Three things we learned from Tottenham draw as transfer need clear to see”
