On Marathons and Community
At the end of July, I ran my first marathon. While my training routine did not at all resemble any of the marathon training plans out there (what reputable trainer would advise you to run really long distances but to train only 3 times a week, and then stop running entirely for the two months leading up to the marathon?), I still finished in a very respectable time of 3:49:06. I walked away from the finish line feeling sore (limped would probably be a more accurate description), but with a heightened desire to run a marathon again sooner rather than later. (For what it’s worth, you can follow my training for the California Internationl Marathon in Sacramento, which I’ll be running at the beginning of December.)
One of the interesting features of most large marathons these days are the pace groups. In essence, the marathon organizers select teams of experienced runners who can finish the race in a particular amount of time. Those runners show up at the start line with signs indicating that finishing time, and then run at a relatively steady pace through the marathon, using GPS devices or their watches to keep them on track. I ran with the 3:50 pace group, and it’s the main reason that I finished so well.
At the beginning of the race, there was a huge pack of runners following the pace team leaders. However, the pack dwindled as the race wore on, dropping dramatically at the midway point of the race as the half-marathon runners (aiming for a 1:55 pace time) broke off from the group towards their finish line. Nearing the 20-mile mark of the race, we were down to about a dozen runners.
Being able to run with people that I was confident would run the race steadily and evenly, and at the pace that I want to maintain for the race, was a big advantage. At the beginning, the pace felt ludicrously slow; by the end, I was having a lot of trouble keeping up, as my lack of training was beginning to show. The pace group was great for another reason, though: it effectively became an impromptu support group. We were a group of people who had not known each other the day before, yet we encouraged each other, told stories, laughed, and cheered “3:50!” at the spectators who showed up to cheer us on. Near the end of the race, as I was having difficulty and was at risk of falling behind, an older man encouraged me to catch up to the group, and even led me past them in the last mile. With his encouragement, I found energy that I didn’t know I had and finished the race sprinting.
With all the commotion and hubbub at the finish line, I never saw any of the pace group members after the race. However, I couldn’t help but feel that I’d experienced something special. I’d experienced a community of people bound together by a common purpose. In this case, it was the rather arbitrary goal of running 26.1 miles in 3 hours and 50 minutes. But for that four-hour span, we turned what could have been a really trying experience (running by oneself for four hours straight is a major test of character) into a really fun and rewarding one.
I was left wondering why communities like this one aren’t more present in our everyday lives. The only thing that I’ve come up with is that we make ourselves believe that things will work out better if we experience life on our own. There are definitely risks in sharing our experiences with others. However, my experience running the streets (and the red bridge) of San Francisco has convinced me that the rewards are greater.
