Pushing Through Marathon PTSD

I knew when I signed up for a marathon that it would hurt. I knew that I would get to mile 20 and cry when I thought about running for another hour. I knew that I would wake up the next day with stiff legs and no energy. I knew it would be weeks before I wanted to run again. But I did not anticipate that six months later, I would still be struggling to feel good as a runner again.

Throughout the summer, I struggled with what I refer to as marathon post-traumatic stress disorder.  After just a few minutes of running, my brain and body would flash back to the pain of the last 6 miles of the marathon. My legs weighed 50 pounds, and my sides cramped, and hips hurt, even when I wasn't running. Worse, at least for my morale, I lacked the mental fortitude to push through it and would just walk half the run.  Due to a combination of these mental struggles, a chaotic work schedule, and deciding to upright myself to another city, my training—which over the winter was extremely structured—became very haphazard.

As a result of this, for the first time since I started running, I began to move backwards, not forwards. I went from 10-minute miles on distance runs back to 11-minute ones. I lost the ability to sprint that I had worked all last summer to gain. Running became a frustration for me instead of an escape from the other frustrations of my life.

I had hoped that when I moved to New York that I would get back into the swing of things and be able to prepare for my November half marathon, but this has not been the case. Figuring out the work/athletics/life balance in my new work and social atmospheres has been much more challenging than I anticipated. I can’t seem to settle into a sleep routine, which has made getting up in the morning to train too painful on some days. I prefer to train with a group, and it has taken me time to figure out which group worked for me and what workouts I could attend. I’ve started to slightly re-gain the ability to push through on distance runs, but I am still slower than I used to be and still pushing through some pains caused by a winter of intense training. And now I am 10 days before race day having done only three long runs and far fewer short ones than I would like.

I have been getting through my workouts lately by reminding myself that it is supposed to be fun. If I skip a run and instead go to a gym class with a friend, that is okay, because it is supposed to be fun. If I cut a workout down to 45 minutes because I am stressed about completing a work assignment, that is okay, because it is not fun when I am on the treadmill stressing about getting my work done. I am trying to accept that my race will just be slow (and perhaps some walking will be involved). As a perfectionist, this is not easy to accept. But I am trying.