Pain Has Not Defeated me Yet

I ran my fourth 1/2 marathon yesterday. The first two I ran in my late twenties. The third I ran two years ago right before the pandemic. Now that I’m 40 I decided to train a little differently. I continued my normal workout schedule and added in the progressive long runs throughout the six weeks of training. My body has changed over the years and although it’s sometimes hard to accept new limitations.

It shouldn’t be. I’ve always lived with limitations. But still there is something new and fresh each time I recognize this is a temporary home that I inhabit. With each new creak, moan or ache from skin, muscle or bone I am forced to concede control.

I wasn’t nervous to run. People asked me leading up to the race how I was feeling. It caught me off guard this question. Despite all the preparation I hadn’t thought much about how I was feeling. This was just something I was going to do. So I answered good.

I started running in college. And almost immediately I recognized that this was a way to move my body that, although it wasn’t easy, made sense. It quieted my mind and gave me a sense of accomplishment that I carried throughout my day. It gave me courage and confidence. I have run more days than not since that time. So, to me, running isn’t something I think about, it’s something I do to stop all the other thoughts.

As I started my most recent 1/2 marathon I was surprised to see that I was running quite a bit faster than I normally do (never have I been speedy). It felt good and so I did it. However, despite my lungs and mind finding the pace pleasing, my legs slowly started to object. About halfway through my left quad started to tighten up and feel like the muscle had been replaced with a brick. I searched my memory of past long runs and races—had this happened before? Though I’m sure it had, I couldn’t recall a specific time. I started to slow my pace. The next 5 miles were a struggle. There were moments of relief but mostly moments of my legs slowly deciding they had had enough.

It was in the last 3 miles of the race that I had to really face the pain rather than ignore it. And in those miles I realized a few things about the presence of pain in my life.

1. Pain is not usually a choice. Being diagnosed with a childhood illness and having pain for much of my childhood and teenage years I know what uninvited pain feels like. It is not a choice, it is an interruption that cannot be decided how long it stay. Knowing uninvited pain allows me to more easily see the optional pain in my life. In those last three miles I recognized that the pain I was feeling was optional. I could continue to run with the pain or I could quit and the pain would subside.

2. Pain has not defeated me yet. Having lived with pain for significant parts of my life I know this truth, pain has not won. It has slowed me down, it has made me take breaks when I haven’t wanted to, it has left me out and made me feel different, but it hasn’t defeated me. I won’t let it.

3. Pain is a distraction. Pain is loud and demands all of your attention. In doing so it distracts you from what is working. As I took a minute to pull my attention from my aching quads as I ran the last few miles I recognized what was going well. My breathing was strong, I wasn’t gasping for air, I was taking smooth breaths in and out. My mind was strong. Though my legs were reluctant my mind was ready to help them continue one foot in front of the other. And despite the pain, my body was still moving. Recognizing what was working helped me move forward in the face of pain.

4. Pain is a warning. Not all pain is meant to be pushed through. It is up to you to decide when pain is present to help and protect you and when it is an obstacle to overcome.

I finished the race. And even though there was pain along the way I realized that I still loved it. Because pain doesn’t mean an experience is only bad. It is part of this life but i don’t have to let it change how I feel about my experiences.