"I Think I Can...I Think I Can"

Valley Forge, Pennsylvania

This morning I ran ten miles in beautiful Valley Forge National Park.

That's the farthest I've run in many months. I was stalled first because I decided to do some physical therapy on a chronic problem in my low back. I had had a serious injury five years ago, after which I spent 18 months doing PT and finding out what my body needed to stay healthy.

I actually began to run at that point,( with my neurologist's blessing ) and loved it. I started racing, and loved it as well. And actually didn't do too badly in my age group-- a handful of second places, and a couple of first. No one was more surprised than me. I've always been competitive, and I've always loved sports. But, I'm that baby boomer crowd of women who were around before Title 9.

So, I never competed in sports. Oh, there were intermural games at my high school and college, but I was always clear that the boys were getting the coaching and the training. It seemed to me that the bar was pretty low, so I did other things like theater. As I moved into my 20s, --and to the present day--I always swam, played racquetball, tennis and liked to bike and hike.

You may remember that I'm training for the New York Marathon--my very first marathon--on Sunday, November 5, 2006. That's 54 or so days from now. Between now and then, I will need to run at least one 20 mile run, and increase my weekly mileage to 35 to 40 miles per week just so I can handle the endurance required for the actual event.

So, this morning, I woke up at 5a.m., had some breakfast, drank some water, dressed and headed out to Valley Forge as the sun was coming up. I began running at 7am. There were some cars in the parking lot, but no one around. This route, the Betzwood Bridge route, is my favorite. For half of the run, I'm running parallel to the Schuykill River along a gravel path that is mostly shaded by huge Pennsylvania hardwoods.

This morning, the cardinals greeted me, a couple of squirrels, finally, two women walking their dogs along the path. I had brought my IPod all downloaded with U2 ( "It's A Beautiful Day" is the first tune ) but I didn't even turn it one for three miles because the sounds were enough. It's my favorite running path here, and I've done it enough that I know the markers. Not the mile markers, but the natural markers like the rushing sound of the rapids or the clearing just before the first bridge where I often see deer drinking on the edge of the river.

At mile 4 I put on the IPod and began the second part of the run, the bike path that goes the 30+ miles into Philadelphia. My plan was to go out 2 miles, retrace my steps, then go back onto the river path to my finish line. I can't say it was an easy run. It wasn't one of those days that you're blessed with every once in awhile when you feel like you could run forever.

As I turned back and reached the river path again, I realized how tired I was. Then it struck me that I needed carbs--I'd been running for an hour with some water, but no energy source. Mental note to myself: don't forget these runs are not 3 miles anymore. You need to bring GU ( a high carb gel that fits into the tiny pockets of most running shorts) .

Luckily for me, the Leukemia Society was also training--about 30 people total-- for different marathons. Bless them, they had a table set up with GU, Gatorade, water, jelly beans. "Hi," I said as I ran up to their table. " I'm not one of you, but I didn't prepare for this being such a taxing run. Can I have some of this stuff." The three people manning the table couldn't have been more generous. "What every you want. No problem." It's at times like this that I realize what a generally great group that runners are to one another. Except for the crazies who only want to win and mow you down to do it, the majority of competitive runners at this level are racing themselves, finding their personal best, meeting their personal goals.

After my thank yous, I set out to complete the last leg of my run. My IPod died. That's it, I declared to myself. I'm buying a new Ipod Nano tomorrow and fill it with tunes like "Rocky" for inspiration in the coming weeks. I watched for my landmarks, now very tired. After three bridges, one boulder, five seating areas and finally the rush of the rapids, I could see my little convertible at the end of the path like a great big red beacon.

It wasn't the best run I've ever done. It wasn't the worst. But I did it. What I like about physical goals like this is they are measurable in a set period of time. You either run the 10 miles or you don't. How many other areas of one's life are that clear cut? Relationships? Work situations? Slogging through the exigencies of the day to day?

I think running gives me the strength to meet the challenges of the other elements of living fully--where control is pretty limited to tell the truth and things are pretty muddy.

So, this morning, I ran the distance. I didn't particularly want to but I did. And now I'm one step closer to my goal. I'm far from cocky. Most folks in marathon training are doing 16-18 miles for a long run at this point. I am resolute, though. As long as my body is strong and stays injury free, I'm just going to go out there and do my best--pretty , ugly--I don't care.

This morning for the last miles I found myself chanting ( do you remember this children's book quote? ) "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can."

M.C.