Marathons. They are a sickness. You say to yourself one day, “hey, maybe I’ll try running a marathon.” Next thing you know, you’re training for months. Then you complete the marathon and take a week off, and somehow think you should sign up for another one. And so the cycle goes. Or so I’ve been told.
As endurance athletes we train, we train long, and we train hard. We continuously push ourselves. As runners we may not be traversing Mt. Everest (maybe we are?), but we are still taking our bodies to the limits. How far and how fast are common measurements of success for the casual runner and the elite alike.
Which leads me to ask the questions of knowing when to quit and throw in the towel, or when to keep pushing mentally and/or physically. Ask any distance runner and they will tell you that running is just as much mental as it is physical — perhaps even more so. Your mind can play tricks on you. One day you can run a perfectly comfortable 10 miler, and then next week your head won’t be in the game and you can barely muster 8.
So how do you know the difference of when to push and when to take a step back, or quit? You just do. And if you’re too stubborn to know, your friends or fellow runners will let you know.
My friend — we’ll call him Todd — had been training for a marathon for the better part of 2014. It took place on April 19. He and our other friend — we’ll call her Sara — paced together for almost every single long run. They worked hard and stuck together. Being a part of their running group, I saw all of the training posts, heard about their runs, and knew they were in it together. I’ll pick up the story on race day…
Todd trained well. He is a seasoned runner and competitor, and was taking on his first full marathon. He trained hard. Biking on his off days, carbing up before long runs, hydrating constantly. Race day was no different. He took his fuel and hit every water station, along with the water he was carrying. Things were going well. Todd and Sara were maintaining the pace they had practiced and were making great time.
Around Mile 22 is when disaster struck. He was running with Sara and another friend, who we will call John, who joined them to run them in the last 6.25 miles. In Todd’s words:
“Around mile 22 I started to feel it a little but it felt more like running 22 miles. Then it came on fast. I’m not really sure how I was able to run then. John was holding me up while running…
I was to the point I couldn’t hold my head up. From what I understand we made it to 25.5 miles. I remember trying to run and fighting to hold my head up… I remember a lady in the stands yelling ‘do you need help?’ and handing John a bottle of water. John was having me drink left and right…
John pulled me out of the race before I collapsed. My body was shutting down. He was asking me questions as we were running — as long as I got them correct we kept going. As soon as my answers got fuzzy he called for a medic.
My vision wasn’t blurry but I couldn’t tell you much about the last two-ish miles. I had to focus so much on trying to run and holding my head up. I remember Sara yelling to John to slow me down. I don’t know how long the time was that had passed. Sara told me she saw it happen slowly.”
As a friend and fellow group-mate, I knew something was up. I saw Sara’s posts coming in about the marathon, and I didn’t see anything from Todd. I saw her finish photos and he was missing. Hours passed and the running group started to wonder what was up, too. It wasn’t until several hours later that we learned Todd had gone to the hospital, but none of us knew the extent of his declining health. A photo was posted of him in the hospital with his friend John, and he seemed to be doing all right.
Days passed and the full story came out in trickles. He said the photo from the ER made it look like he was okay, but in reality he was bordering on some very serious health concerns. His heart rate was high, and at 7 pm that evening he still had low blood pressure. He was told he was one of the luckier ones. The ER was overflowing with marathoners. Todd was told that the pollen and pollution levels were so high that it was a feat in and of itself just to walk for some folks.
After several discussions with Todd over the course of the following days, it came clear that was he down and out both physically and mentally. From Todd:
“The thing that is really upsetting is all the people that have no clue what I did leading up to the race, and telling me everything I did wrong and not asking me what I did right. I started upping my nutrition Monday and Tuesday and throughout the rest of the week. I started the 3 carbs per pound of body weight on Wednesday with additional hydration. I took 9 gel packs up to mile 22. I hit every water stop. I went through one of my water bottles and was working on the second.
I had a pulled lower abdominal muscle that I had to baby during training, so I had been biking on my spin bike at home. Sara and I ran 20.5 miles of the course 2 weeks before the race. I couldn’t factor in that the trees and flowers would be in bloom 2 to 2.5 weeks later than normal. How could I have trained for something like that? I can’t look back and say ‘oh yeah, it was this or that.’ What I did felt great. After Sara and I did our run — aka pre-pollen outbreak — I rested because I knew it was best, not because I felt bad. I went into the race feeling good. I felt good the whole way until bam… game over.”
Todd sent me some photos that were snapped while he was in pretty bad shape on the course. He asked me not to show anyone because his family doesn’t know how bad it really was. I asked him if he was going to tackle 26.2 again and though he isn’t sure yet, I don’t doubt for a second that he won’t make another attempt. In his words, “you bet your butt I can’t stand to leave something on the table. I had looked forward to that race for so long, and to have it taken from me was crushing.”
I’m appreciative that he shared his story with me. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to have trained so hard for something and wanted it so bad, just to have it taken away in the blink of an eye. He was truly fortunate to have his friends with him when his judgement was off. If it hadn’t been for Sara and John, who knows how this story may have ended.
Marathoners: don’t take this sign literally!
Thank you for your story, Todd. There are a great many of us runners and endurance athletes who will benefit from hearing about it from the other side. It’s best to know yourself, your training, and your body. And to have great friends to help you recognize the signs of distress when you are in a compromised state of mind.
Let us know when you plan to take on 26.2 again. We’ll be rooting for you!
friendshalf marathonhealthhealthyKDF marathonlifemarathonrunning-life balancesafetytrainingtraining recap
