The white starting line will stand in front of me, and the cold air of the morning will engulf me, making me shudder. The whistle will blow, loud and clear, as more than 3.000 runners, all with numbers on their backs, will start to jog, majestically. More than 3.000 little hearts will pound to one rhythm, and all those little hearts know exactly how the other feels, the empathy of hearts being overwhelming…The sun will creep up on our backs, and the cold air will whip our faces as more than 3,000 pairs of legs will start to pound the ground, like a drumbeat before a ceremony. The 10k will be the first race that I have ever done, and I will remember it. I will also remember the feeling of the days before the race. I have started to call it the fight between myself. It’s my physical struggles against my emotional state. Right before the race, there are quite a few things I need to do. I need to eat a good breakfast, sleep well, and not overdo it. Yet, before the race my emotional state has been growing worse, and worse. I’m anxious about everything, and the pressure telling me to do better has been climbing, till I’m using up so much of my energy, I’m even yawning now. My anxiety has also been keeping me up at night, asking stupid "what if" problems. The sleepier I am, the more my “what if” questions get desperate and more anxiety piles up. The weight of the race is like a 10 ton rock in my poor stomach, carrying more than it could handle. What if I get cramps before the first mile? What if I faint? What if I hammer kick a cockroach during the race and get disqualified for ruining nature? What am I supposed to do if….. During the whole night, what if questions get worse and worse, not only making my anxiety grow even further, but making humongous dark circles under my eyes, barely concealed by my glasses. My desperation to do my best during the race is fading, replaced by my desperation to not make a fool of myself during the race. Instead of thinking the glass is half full, I’m constantly thinking my glass is half empty. I need to go to sleep, yet anxiety keeps me awake. I need to not overdo it, yet there are so many events to overdo it on. My physical struggles against my emotional state. The fight between myself. I will win.
After every race that I have participated in, I always come to the same realization. Running incredibly long distance is as much as an individual sport as it is, for lack of a better term, a team sport. It is very self-centered, in the sense that you are all alone, mentally and physically competing against yourself. However, I found that you can run for as long and as fast as you can, but what makes it fun, is the enthusiasm and excitement that is shared between the runners. Not to mention the support that is shared between all the participants, as if we were all one big team. After running for over an hour and a half in the Southern California Half-Marathon, I remember feeling tired. Maybe it was because of my lack of sleep, or because I was feeling nauseous that morning, but I recall wanting to stop running and walk my way to the finish line, which, by the way, was very foolish of me. However, the feeling of being cheered on by runners and volunteers alike was the most divine feeling at that time. And it most certainly propelled me straight to the finish line, without a second thought. As mundane as it sounds, the weather was great for a race. I probably would have liked it better if there were some clouds to block the sun, but that didn’t discourage me from running and finishing the race. As for the highlights from the race, I remember enjoying the live band that was posted somewhere along mile 4 or 5. Also, my friend absent-mindedly ran into a pole, while we were talking during the race, which was very funny. I also clearly remember that by the time I reached mile 13, I wished I could go back in time to build Marathon a little closer to Athens, so I wouldn’t have to run that pesky 0.1 mile, which I always seem to forget about. I also overheard two girls fighting over what they were going to eat after the race. One girl said she didn’t want to get fries, while the other ensured her that by the end of the race she will passionately crave some french fries. As for myself, after the run, I kept my tradition and stopped by Costco for a victory churro and sundae. Since my pacing-buddy had to use the restrooms during the race, I allowed myself to stop my own stopwatch during that time. By the end of the race I beat my (only) personal best time by a total of five minutes. I couldn’t have been more proud. Prior to joining my SRLA group at school, running was only a fun hobby. Never would I have imagined that I would run and finish, not one, but two half-marathons. I can’t wait for March. See you at the next race! Tal Lifshitz.
The white starting line will stand in front of me, and the cold air of the morning will engulf me, making me shudder. The whistle will blow, loud and clear, as more than 3.000 runners, all with numbers on their backs, will start to jog, majestically. More than 3.000 little hearts will pound to one rhythm, and all those little hearts know exactly how the other feels, the empathy of hearts being overwhelming…The sun will creep up on our backs, and the cold air will whip our faces as more than 3,000 pairs of legs will start to pound the ground, like a drumbeat before a ceremony. The 10k will be the first race that I have ever done, and I will remember it. I will also remember the feeling of the days before the race. I have started to call it the fight between myself. It’s my physical struggles against my emotional state. Right before the race, there are quite a few things I need to do. I need to eat a good breakfast, sleep well, and not overdo it. Yet, before the race my emotional state has been growing worse, and worse. I’m anxious about everything, and the pressure telling me to do better has been climbing, till I’m using up so much of my energy, I’m even yawning now. My anxiety has also been keeping me up at night, asking stupid "what if" problems. The sleepier I am, the more my “what if” questions get desperate and more anxiety piles up. The weight of the race is like a 10 ton rock in my poor stomach, carrying more than it could handle. What if I get cramps before the first mile? What if I faint? What if I hammer kick a cockroach during the race and get disqualified for ruining nature? What am I supposed to do if….. During the whole night, what if questions get worse and worse, not only making my anxiety grow even further, but making humongous dark circles under my eyes, barely concealed by my glasses. My desperation to do my best during the race is fading, replaced by my desperation to not make a fool of myself during the race. Instead of thinking the glass is half full, I’m constantly thinking my glass is half empty. I need to go to sleep, yet anxiety keeps me awake. I need to not overdo it, yet there are so many events to overdo it on. My physical struggles against my emotional state. The fight between myself. I will win.
ReplyDeleteAfter every race that I have participated in, I always come to the same realization. Running incredibly long distance is as much as an individual sport as it is, for lack of a better term, a team sport. It is very self-centered, in the sense that you are all alone, mentally and physically competing against yourself. However, I found that you can run for as long and as fast as you can, but what makes it fun, is the enthusiasm and excitement that is shared between the runners. Not to mention the support that is shared between all the participants, as if we were all one big team.
ReplyDeleteAfter running for over an hour and a half in the Southern California Half-Marathon, I remember feeling tired. Maybe it was because of my lack of sleep, or because I was feeling nauseous that morning, but I recall wanting to stop running and walk my way to the finish line, which, by the way, was very foolish of me. However, the feeling of being cheered on by runners and volunteers alike was the most divine feeling at that time. And it most certainly propelled me straight to the finish line, without a second thought.
As mundane as it sounds, the weather was great for a race. I probably would have liked it better if there were some clouds to block the sun, but that didn’t discourage me from running and finishing the race.
As for the highlights from the race, I remember enjoying the live band that was posted somewhere along mile 4 or 5. Also, my friend absent-mindedly ran into a pole, while we were talking during the race, which was very funny. I also clearly remember that by the time I reached mile 13, I wished I could go back in time to build Marathon a little closer to Athens, so I wouldn’t have to run that pesky 0.1 mile, which I always seem to forget about.
I also overheard two girls fighting over what they were going to eat after the race. One girl said she didn’t want to get fries, while the other ensured her that by the end of the race she will passionately crave some french fries. As for myself, after the run, I kept my tradition and stopped by Costco for a victory churro and sundae.
Since my pacing-buddy had to use the restrooms during the race, I allowed myself to stop my own stopwatch during that time. By the end of the race I beat my (only) personal best time by a total of five minutes. I couldn’t have been more proud. Prior to joining my SRLA group at school, running was only a fun hobby. Never would I have imagined that I would run and finish, not one, but two half-marathons. I can’t wait for March.
See you at the next race!
Tal Lifshitz.