runDisney Redoux

I have chronic feelings of restlessness. I like to be working towards something, because it brings structure and discipline into my otherwise self-indulgent existence. So because I'm an achiever, I decided to run a marathon. And after I ran the marathon, I thought, okay, I'm done now.

But it was the weirdest thing.

I missed running.

I like what training my body to do something hard had done for me. I hated that my marathon completion didn't feel like a real victory. (I walked the last five miles feeling like I was going to puke and barely clocked a sub-five, soooo.) I thought, I can do better. I registered for a half-marathon. I broke the sub-two threshold. I thought, I might be a runner. But I won't know for sure until I finish another marathon, this time the right way.

I started training on September 5. I'm using the Hal Higdon Intermediate I plan, which is new for me because I have never worked out six days a week before. I asked my cousin--a Higdon devotee--why there were so many junk miles in the plan, and he rhetorically inquired what a junk mile was. I'm still in the shiny and enthusiastic phase where nothing hurts too much yet, I'm seeing immediate gains, and the mileage isn't so long that I can't have a social life. The temperature and the light outside is perfect. I know it's about to get harder, and then much, much harder.

Support makes running easier, though. My mom and my sister came to cheer me on last year, and I could have cried when I saw their faces on Main Street USA. This year I recruited my brother to run, and he texts me his running diary. My boyfriend gives me wake up calls to make sure I get going on time for those early morning workouts, and he always listens attentively when I am droning on about plyometric exercises and injury worries and how I think I'm getting faster. "You are getting faster!" he texts me, with a bicep emoji.

If I'm a runner, I'm still a relatively new one. I feel like there's so much I don't know. How long and at what intensity should I bike on my cross-training days? What rep and weight goals should I have for my strength training regimen? Is it okay if I don't do my long runs slowly so long as I'm doing a speed and intensity that feels good? Is it really necessary that I use protein powder if I'm consuming 50 grams of protein a day anyway? I don't own a foam roller--am I actually really a runner?

When I don't feel like running, I listen to Kelly Roberts' pep talks. She reminds me that running is not complicated, but it is still important, because it is a tool to help us understand ourselves and strengthen our character. I listen to podcasts about history, or culture, or technology, or faith. I listen to hymns or worship songs. Sometimes I run without anything in my ears, and I breathe deep and look at the sky and focus on my footfall. Sometimes I pray.

How running helps me work out my faith is a very strange thing. I don't feel like it's accurate to call myself a runner. I feel like I'm never far from breaking the routine I've created: I skip one run and that's it, I've fallen off the wagon. But it's funny that I don't feel it's inaccurate to call myself a Christian. I've been trying to be one my whole life, after all. And yet, for the month of September, it might be accurate to say I've been more faithful to my training schedule than my daily devotional. I am hopeful that learning how to discipline myself to be a runner will help me discipline myself to be a better Christ follower. Much good running advice is also good faith advice: don't try to do more than you can, remember your why, push yourself to your mental limit, acknowledge your limitations, rest and refuel, keep trying and don't become discouraged.

I think running is good for my body, and my mental wellbeing, but I think the most compelling reason to stick with running is that it seems to be good for my faith.

runDisney remains prohibitively expensive. Because of my work schedule, I am flying in late Friday night, cheering on my brother Saturday morning, picking up my bib Saturday afternoon, running Sunday morning, flying out Sunday afternoon. Because my mom is a genius, we are staying at Hilton Bonnet Creek, where their marathon rates allow for late checkout at 2pm. Also proximity to Disney Springs should give us something fun to do Saturday afternoon during our down time. Flight + ground transportation + hotel + race registration means this weekend will cost approximately a grand per person--yikes!

But I'm a little boujie, and everyone needs their carrot on a stick.

26

Twenty-six. Working on a Sunday. Freelancing! Not running, due to an injury from going too hard too fast, because I am ever the idealist, not realistic about what is good for me in a given moment. Twenty-six, and my idealism is still at the root of problems I cause for myself: taking on too much, torturing myself with a fantasy world, shouldering the guilt in the disconnect from what I think I should be doing compared with what I'm actually doing. 

But I hope my tone is not too cynical, because I have found deep comfort in growing older, being older. I enjoy how the good things in the past still trickle in to bless the present. I appreciate how even in the torrential changes, some things still stay the same. I am thankful for how each year is filled with new experiences, which enrich my capacity to empathize with and understand others. Life is baby steps. You have to celebrate each little bit of falling forward. 

So twenty-five was good. I went to Vietnam. I graduated law school. I saw my best friends get married. I passed one state bar. I went to South Africa, and finally, FINALLY, London. I even made some new friends! 

And twenty-six will be hard, but it will be good. I will learn how to be a professional in my field. I will learn how not to be a workaholic. I will learn how to do adult things like buy my own health insurance and plan for retirement and maybe even move out of my parents' house. 

I will keep learning how to put others before myself and how to take up my cross daily to follow my Savior. 

Growth takes time. But the years on earth go by so quickly, whereas perfection is for eternity. 

runDisney: Pulling the Trigger

I really do hate running. I've never been able to do it well. You know how all these couch-to-5k training programs tell you to run slowly enough that you can carry on a conversation without getting winded? I can't fathom how that's even possible, because I get winded in the first five footsteps of every run. I'm not sure what the difference is between running and jogging. As a homeschooler never subject to gym class requirements, I never even ran a mile until my first road race. 

Despite my ongoing aversion to and ignorance of running, this past week I registered for the 2018 Walt Disney World Marathon.

Merpppppp.

Running a marathon is a bucket list goal of mine, one I lit upon ever since finishing a half-marathon in college and realizing what I thought was impossible was actually, maybe in the realm of possibility. This year I turn 26 and it only seemed fitting that I commemorate this nondescript birthday with a corresponding mile marker. Because let's face it, my body and its youth are literally decaying with each passing day. With feats of athleticism, now is better than later, no matter what Tom Brady says. 

I've also been finding myself maybe, floundering a little? The new school year is upon us, and instead of preparing to go back to school like I have for the past 21 years of my life, I'm stuck in employment limbo, commuting seventy miles to a job I don't much care for, waiting to hear if I can start my legal career or have to turn back to my study aids to retake my licensing exam. The pervasive feeling of treading water demands the creation of new or even artificial benchmarks. I need new goals in my life, something to work towards, to keep me from going crazy from the grind of a job where I just can't find my stride. 

Plus, running releases endorphins in your brain that makes you feel good, allegedly. 

So why does a person who hates running force herself to shell out the $200 registration fee (to say nothing of the flight and lodging) for a marathon? 

1) Hello, it's Disney! For my fellow Disney nerds, this statement is self-evident, but for the uninitiated, never underestimate the siren call of an entertainment empire's magic production capacity. The atmosphere that accompanies a road race is the greatest thing. Spectators cheering, volunteers passing water, the sights and sounds of the course, the addictively triumphant feeling at the finish line that you just don't get from finishing a run around your neighborhood. Make that atmosphere Disney-ified and I have that much more to smile about as I slog through the course. 

2) The other real allure of a Disney race is that it's not about PR. I'm not trying to develop a competitive pace or qualify for the Boston Marathon. I just want to finish. I want to get the medal and put it in a frame just to say I did it. This is a race anyone can do, even if it means walking for the lion's share of the course. And that's not something you're going to get judged for, because no one's there for a PR; everyone's there to run in their Disney-themed costumes, grab those rare character photo-ops, and see the empty parks at the crack of down. Because the Disney races are less competitive, they are automatically more accessible. Automatically less fear. 

3) I tend to believe that cardio is a dumb way to get healthy, but conditioning my body to do something hard is nothing but healthy for my gym prodigal lifestyle. I love weight training, but I gave up my gym membership to save money, delusionally believing I'd keep up with my kettlebell in my living room. It's not that marathon training will make me "healthier", but I am intrigued by my own power to alter my body through repetitive activity, and am hopeful the running routines I am setting now from necessity can be translated to a more consistent at-home weight training routine, since cross-training is an integral part of marathon training. 

The real test in the coming months is how religiously I stick to my training plan, especially as the days get darker and the weather gets chillier, but knowing I have a weekend at the Happiest Place on Earth at the end of it is actually the dose of motivation I need to get busy on this life goal. 

In asking, how do I be an adult? How do I live a good life? How do I deny myself now for the future pay off? How do I be a better Jesus-follower? These little, silly, arbitrary goals are part of the puzzle for me of the excruciatingly slow process of redemption, faithfulness, and sanctification.