Led Zeppelin

If you've ever run a marathon, you know that one of the hardest post-race questions to answer is: How did it go?  First of all, where to start? I could tell you about the shear fear that I felt at 14, wondering if I had gone out too hard and if I could hang on -- FOR ANOTHER 12 MILES.  I could tell you how my legs felt like cement blocks at 16.  I could give you a great visual of what I can only describe as a "toe explosion" that happened around 25.  But I think most of what "happens" during a marathon happens in your head.  This is not to say that for 26 miles I am contemplating great philosophical questions.  Rather, I'm all over the board -- I think about emails I need to respond to, the fact that my first, middle, and last name use all the vowels in the alphabet (I know!), advanced multiplication in an effort to project my finish time.

What is interesting, unexplainable and usually unplanned are those thoughts/words/feelings that your mind ends up clinging to in an effort to motivate, or maybe distract, or maybe just comfort you.  Certain words become mantras.  I use the word "float" and imagine my feet never touching the ground.  Just gliding from one mile to the next.  Sometimes there are signs on the course that grab your attention.  My favorite thus far in my marathon career: "The Wall is only a Pink Floyd song!"  Or maybe someone yells something catchy that sticks with you: "Ten in the tank!"

And then there's the music.  Let me first defend myself by stating that this marathon I'm talking about was, in fact, the ROCK AND ROLL MARATHON.  But I do have to admit that I am an I-poder.  I get a lot of flack from my "au natural" running friends.  And maybe the true marathon experience/demons are only realized sans music.  Regardless, I spend marathon-eve loading up the I-pod/Nano/Shuffle (What's it going to be next year Mr. Jobs?), trying to figure out if Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch will really motivate me through mile 19.

For all the negative things that can be said for marathoning with music, let me counter point with this: one of my most focused and clear moments during last weekend's marathon came during Led Zeppelin's Kashmir -- song 5o of my marathon mix.  It felt like a movie, when the character plays out in actions the lyrics of his theme song.  There I was, with Led Zeppelin singing my internal dialogue, a song which they had obviously written for me at this very moment of my life!  I look up into the clear, bright Arizona sky and Robert Plant reads my mind:

"Oh let the sun beat down upon my face, stars to fill my dream.

I am a traveler of both time and space to where I have been."

They run with me through uncertainty and fear.  Can I hang on?  Will I make it?  I try to think about mile 9 and live in that feeling for a moment -- when life was good and I loved running.

"All I see turns to brown as the sun burns the ground.

And my eyes fill with sand, as I scan this wasteland,

Trying to find, trying to find where I've been."

I turn a corner which puts me in striking distance of the finish and realize that it's almost over -- not the marathon, but the build up, the anticipation, the planning, my purpose -- and for a moment, JUST ONE, I am sad to see the end closing in.  I am about to leave this place that I love, this battle that I love to fight, this other world.  Here, we are at home, we are family.  Our intentions and efforts are pure, true, and inspiring.  If only it didn't hurt so much to get here, I would come back everyday.  In fact, I would never leave.  Sing it boys . . . 

"Oh pilot of the storm who leaves no trace, like thoughts inside a dream,

You've the map that led me to that place, yellow desert stream.

My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon, I will return again

Sure as the dust that floats high and true, when moving through Kashmir."

In the end, isn't life just about making connections, building your own story with music, words, people, places, experiences that mean something to you?  Find meaning, create meaning, wear your I-pod, listen to your steps -- material for life is everywhere -- especially on the marathon course.

Aristotle

My college rowing coach was a minimalist when it came to anything but coaching.  There were very few inspirational speaches, sparse motivational comments of any kind, and you can bet there were no group trips or practices wasted  on "team bonding."  Nope, there was rowing, and alot of it.  That's why when she broke out with an Aristotle quote my senior year after a total team meltdown, everyone stopped dead in their tracks.  She had printed a copy of the following quote for everyone on the team -- a gesture so out of the ordinary for her and thus meaningful to me, that that very piece of paper has followed me around for the last five years, reminding me of this:

We are what we repeatedly do.  Excellence then, is not and act, but a habit.

Since that day I think I can confidently say that I have made my best effort to live by those words -- to pursue excellence in everything I do.  In some ways, an overwhelming thought.  To BE excellent, I have to practice excellence OVER and OVER and OVER again.  But on the other hand, I find some respite in knowing that it is not any one performance that makes me excellent or ruins me.  Rather, excellence is accrued over time with consistent effort and unwavering determination.  Inherently, these qualities, when met with passion, yield success. And yet success does not have to be defined as winning every time, or even winning once .  It is not about being the BEST or the BRIGHTEST.  The only thing that matters in pursuing our individual excellence is our own individual improvment -- wanting to be better, faster, stronger, smarter tomorrow than we were today.

We will always look  to other people's accomplishments and judge ourselves against them, but I try not to be discouraged by doing so.  Instead, I try to let the accomplishments of others serve as goals, and eventually stepping stones as I test and discover my own limits. Or then again, maybe I will never get there.  Maybe the pros and elites will be forever in their arena and me in mine, but why should that diminish my accomplishments?  I won't allow that to keep me from pursuing my own excellence.

I love those athletes that you pass during a race who shout in your ear "Good Luck!" or "You Go Girl!"  Those are the athletes who get it.  They know that my success, my pursuit of excellence bears no negative affect on their efforts.  Quite the contrary.  Their effort pushes me to be a little faster, a little more agressive than had they not been there.  And so the effort of your "competitors" is directly related to your own success.

When it comes down to it, there are very few of us who strive to WIN when we race.  I'm a decent age grouper , but I'm not looking for prize money anytime soon.  I think the healthiest pursuit is simply to try to improve on past performances, to make a habit of consistent improvement.

I am a week away from my fourth marathon.  My goal is to drop 14 minutes off last year's time, with an even further off goal of eventually qualifying for Boston. But the only thing I can count on for now is this: I will wake up that morning with the same combination of dread and anticipation as I always do.  I will leave the house fantasizing about my return.  I will get to the start line and make small talk with some of my "corral competitors."  Jungle mentality will take over for a moment when the ropes drop, the corrals condense, and the runners jockey for position.  But when the gun goes off and I start my watch, it's not them that I am racing.  I will be racing the numbers 4:03:04.  Because in the end there is no better feeling than crossing the finish line and knowing that you are better than you once were, no matter anyone else's time. And at the end of the day, with muscles full of lactic acid and a heart full of pride, I will know that I am that much closer in my pursuit, 26 miles closer to my own excellence.