I ran a marathon and nothing changed

Last Sunday, I raced my first marathon in Carlsbad, Calif., and that’s kind of it.

If you asked me how it was, how it went, I would reply fun, hard, exhausting. If you asked me how I feel, I’d say still sore, tired and… accomplished?

Here’s the deal: I don’t feel any different since the race.

I almost cried halfway through when Jakob, my boyfriend and running partner, mentioned our cat, and again when I glanced over at him around mile 24 and uttered how proud I was of us. 

But upon finishing, I just felt tired.

Even now as I write this, three days later, I’m tired. My muscles are stiff, my nailless toes still throbbing. But Jakob? Up and at ‘em, indoor biking this morning. Apparently he’s not tired. 

I’m not upset by this because I knew I’d be sore. Our biggest run leading up to the race was 20 miles and even that run I still felt two days later. It’s just that, along with the soreness, I thought I’d feel something else. After all, this was my one year anniversary of running. 

In fact, let’s start there.

In November 2022 (I know this is more than a year ago, but I want to give the full backstory, bear with me), I played in my last competitive soccer match. Effective immediately, I retired from my college soccer career. 

While a hard pill to swallow, and a monumental shift in my personal identity, I felt ready. I shed my share of tears, reminisced with my teammates, and gleefully accepted my senior day celebrations; all significant stepping stones toward accepting NARP (non-athletic regular person) status. 

But I quickly realized that couldn’t be me. 

While awaiting the imminent arrival of our retirement from college soccer, Jakob began pitching new athletic endeavors. Never have I ever felt more like a Shark Tank investor. 

By January 2023, we not only had a plan to begin training for our first triathlon, but on a whim, we also decided to sign up for our first half marathon with less than two months to train. 

I have never identified as a runner, and truth be told, I never thought I would. It’s not because anyone told me I couldn’t, it just wasn’t something that ever interested me.

My only running experience was sprint training for soccer or the occasional three mile neighborhood jog when my dad asked if I wanted to join him. My workouts consisted of short, quick exercises focused on speed and 400 meter endurance. I had never run over 6.2 miles. 

Then all this madness started.

Throughout 2023, I competed in three half marathon races, plus a handful of other ‘just for fun’ halves, and three triathlons (two sprints, one olympic distance).

I almost forgot I had ever even played soccer. 

It’s hard to remember a time I didn’t identify as a soccer player. In fact, I can’t before 2023. It’s all I knew and all I wanted to be. This year of running and training for something new taught me that I had grown out of that identity, that label. 

Soccer will forever be my sport. I still love it and always will. I’ve just taken a step back so I can continue to grow into my new label. One I’ve always had, but hid behind my niche: athlete. 

This brings us back to present day, January 2024. I’ve officially capped my one year of running with my longest run ever: 26.2 miles. Although, my watch did clock 26.4, just saying. 

Reflecting on this past year has helped me understand why I didn’t experience rainbows and fireworks after I finished the marathon. I had already done the hard part, and arguably the most impressive part: I trained.

I experienced more than enough highs and lows with running throughout last year and this training block specifically, that the race was just the bow on top of my hard work.

That’s why they hand out medals! And beer!

I am definitely my harshest critic, so for the record I will say, I am super proud of myself. I’m proud of where this past year has taken me as an athlete and as an individual chasing feat after feat. 

I’m so grateful for Jakob, my training partner, massage therapist, personal chef, support system, hype man, and of course, number one competitor. Taking on an endurance based athletic challenge takes a lot of time. Like, a lot of time. I’m lucky to have someone that continues to push and support me to take the time to train, and subsequently even more time to rest and mend on the other side. 

I can’t wait to see what else I can accomplish in 2024 with running, and perhaps swimming and biking. For now, I’m resting and patiently waiting for my toenails to grow back (again).