Reflections on a Cancelled Marathon
Why should I be so disappointed to find out that my marathon was cancelled? I mean, it’s definitely a letdown, but now that I’ve had a day or two to reflect, I’m feeling newly motivated. Sure, races are cool—nobody can deny that there’s a lot of adrenaline and excitement that come with race day. It’s nice to do the challenge with a bunch of people who share your enthusiasm for it.
But really, running is about pushing and challenging myself, competing against the person I was yesterday and the person I will be tomorrow, not the person who’s running alongside me on the racecourse. And I don’t have to enter a formal event to challenge myself or push myself.
It sucks that I won’t get my registration fee back, and I won’t be able to claim one more marathon to my name, and I’m not kicking off my 2020 race schedule the way I thought I would (pretty much every other race this spring has been cancelled as well).
But screw it. We’ve got beautiful weather this weekend, I have air in my lungs, blood in my veins, fierceness in my spirit, and a running trail that’s calling my name.
Let’s see how many miles I can do this weekend. Maybe 30? Or 40? Or even 50? Who knows? But I’m going to go out there and push myself. And when I get home, I plan to be inspired as hell and get some writing projects done. Maybe I’ll do some blogging about my fitness journey. Maybe I’ll break out that rough draft of “The Tide and the Stars” that has been collecting dust and I’ll start revising it. (Because if I’m not writing about health, I need to be writing children’s fantasy literature. It’s all about balance.)
All I know is that at some point, the Annapolis Striders will probably be sending all of us medals and T-shirts from the race we paid for but didn’t get to run. And when I get mine, I want to say I damn well earned it.