"I Hate Running" Runs a Marathon

Running a marathon has never been on my radar. I’ve always been someone who wore their “I Hate Running” shirt proudly, making sure my voice was added to the chorus when the mantra was pronounced in public. That’s what makes looking back on what got me to the starting line of my first marathon such an interesting journey. How does one go from “I Hate Running” to signing up for 26.2 miles of physical, mental, and emotional tribulation.

The starting line corrals of the 2023 BMW Dallas Marathon Festival are a sight to behold. I’ve never participated in an event so large, where thousands of like minded pavement pounders are squished together with the hopes of achieving the goal they set out toward 3 months earlier. The extra nerve wracking part for me was the brisk 37 degree temperature that decided to blow into North Texas. 

A marathon for the fastest of runners is under three hours. For a runner like myself, you know you’re going to be on course for a minimum of four hours. That means you have to start the race in the clothes you’re going to feel comfortable finishing in. The shock of this fact was instantaneous as I walked out of the Crowne Plaza Hotel into the Dallas wind, blowing my shorts and short sleeve “summer gear” regardless of the emergency blanket wrapping my shoulders. The deep breath I inhaled helped me muster the courage needed to trot my way to Corral C, my designated corral for my goal of a 10:30/mile pace. 

As I was training for the Run Dallas marathon, I always kept pacing at the forefront of my thoughts. If there’s anything a lifetime of enduro racing has taught me, it’s don’t go out too hot at the beginning of the day. I did a fair amount of “time under tension” putting in the miles, but I also did specific pace training. I wanted to know I could feel the pace I wanted under as many circumstances as I could prepare for. The other side of the coin here though is not letting your ego take control. When your corral gets moved up to the official starting line, the energy is high and the music is pumping. It is extremely easy to let the liveliness of the moment pull you out of the gate at a pace that’s setting you up for failure. When there’s 26.2 miles in front of you, hitting a fast one mile pace isn’t doing you any long term favors.

The other side of the coin here though is not letting your ego take control.

I don’t have a sexy running setup. I didn’t prepare to try to be as light as possible. I prepared to be self-sustaining, knowing if anything comes up, I’m ready. This means that the Brian that trotted across the starting line had his USWE hydration pack on, full of UCAN energy powder for carbohydrates and LMNT for electrolytes. The plan I stuck to was 2-3 full mouth pulls on the bladder hose every mile. This worked out to about 1-1.5 cups of water every hour. Hydration and electrolytes wise, this worked great. I’m thankful UCAN was the sponsor of the marathon, because it was becoming apparent I was going to need their on course Edge gels.

I have been using UCAN for just over a year now. After I was diagnosed with Psoriatic Arthritis in 2021, I stopped using more traditional carb supplements because they would flare up my arthritis. UCAN’s LIVSTEADY keeps my blood sugar stable, which seems to prevent arthritis flare ups. I had two scoops of their energy powder in my bladder, 180 calories and 40 grams of carbs, which wasn’t going to be enough. Each UCAN Edge Gel they passed out had 80 calories and 20 grams of carbs. The rice I had for breakfast, and the Fuel for Fire I had 30 minutes before the start, got me to the 8 mile marker. I could tell I was going to need more. So I ate a UCAN Edge gel every time they had a depot, which seemed like it was about one an hour. In the future, I’ll need to be better prepared for the amount of calories and carbs I’ll want to consume per hour of activity. 

I also carried a Fuel for Fire with me that I “ate” at the two hour mark. I do wish this act of bravery had been caught on video. Though I didn’t stumble or drop anything, squeezing any form of “food” into your mouth while trotting down the road is a comedy of errors. I’m sure I had Edge gel and/or Fuel for Fire smoothie dripping off my beard at some point. 

When it comes to multiple hours of pushing your body to a sizable limit, you don’t want it to start breaking down your muscles for amino acids. A small amount of protein from the Fuel for Fire helps me feel better, putting something a bit more substantial in my body for it to digest and utilize. I know the ‘carb warriors’ are going to tell me the protein slows my body down from processing the carbs. I’m here to tell you I’m ok with that. I’m not focusing only on performance, I’m here for the long run.

I’m sure I had Edge gel and/or Fuel for Fire smoothie dripping off my beard at some point. 

I also knew the pain was going to come. There’s no way 26.2 miles on the body isn’t going to cause some unforeseen issues to arise. My plan to help with this was a liquid ibuprofen every hour, along with a 50mg caffeine gum to chew on. When Strava lovingly told me I had crossed over another hour, I would pull the pill bottle out of my Nathan belt and pop some sweet relief. The energy gum I have been using, ZENERGY, is a brand I found on Amazon. I believe having this plan, and sticking to it, also helped me finish with a semi-big smile on my face. 

Around the 14 mile mark is when things got emotional for me. Yes, I cried while running a damn marathon. It was that magical moment in time where everything hits you all at once. The perfect song, with the perfect lyrics, that gives you the feeling that you know you’re doing something you weren’t strong enough to do until this moment in time. I didn’t hate this moment, and I have long left the mantra “I Hate Running” behind in my 10:30/mile dust.

Yes, I cried while running a damn marathon.

I figured out that when we say “I Hate Running”, we don’t actually hate running. We hate the idea of putting ourselves in an uncomfortable situation. The day I stopped telling myself, and others, that I hated running was the day I realized I was holding myself back with those words. I needed to embrace the idea that running was a weakness, and I’m someone who wants to work on their weaknesses. I also don’t have to become a professional marathon runner to find some joy in running. Being a beginner again in a new athletic field has helped me grow so much as an athlete, and as a human. I believe we could all handle being uncomfortable a little bit more, giving us the space to find growth we didn’t know we’d enjoy. 

You know what I didn’t enjoy though, the left hand turn I took at the 18.5 mile marker. This left hand turn put the views of White Rock Lake behind us, while pointing us toward the hill that is White Rock Rd. Though I knew this uphill was coming, I wasn’t prepared for the brute force beatdown it put on my legs and soul. I shifted to a faster cadence, and shorter stride, so I could pitter patter my way up this beast of a climb. I hadn’t walked yet during the event and I didn’t want to start now.

Though the views around White Rock lake were spectacular, I don’t have words for what the run down Ross Ave felt like. When we turned right off of Greenville Ave, the Downtown Dallas skyline was right there. Breathtaking in its beauty, but also taunting in the distance we knew we still had to cover. We were just over 21 miles in, with around 5~ miles to go, and my body was in a pretty weird place. I strained the soleus and tibialis posterior muscles in my right calf on my last long run before the pre-race taper. I rehabbed them really well with the help of Dr. Kayla Keck Royer at Perfect 10 Rehab and Performance with the two weeks we had left, but by this point in the mileage, I felt tightness from my butt cheek to my ankle. The entire backside of my right leg was just a hot, tight mess. No, we’re not going to walk.

I was hoping as I entered the streets of Downtown Dallas that I would start sprinting. That the briskness within the building's shadows would invigorate something inside of me to clobber the last miles of the Dallas marathon. That just didn’t happen, but something else did. I ran through the white gates of the finish line corral with a huge sense of pride and accomplishment. I started this adventure with a desire to try something I was afraid of doing. The concept of running a marathon never crossed my mind because I was holding myself back. I was telling myself I didn’t want to run a marathon. As I was finishing the 2023 Dallas Marathon, I realized I was only telling myself that because I was afraid of the work it would take to be able to finish. 

My official time was 4:30:46, which ‘technically’ is still a 4:30 marathon. The logged pace I averaged was a 10:20 minute per mile pace. Strava was way off by the end of the event, but I wasn’t there for Strava clout. I was there to grow, to challenge myself with something new. The butterflies I felt at the start of the day were brought on by the newness of the event. Having butterflies again before a race was a great feeling. It reminded me I’m excited for the moments ahead, but most important, it reminded me that I’m truly alive. Also, I no longer hate running.

I figured out that when we say “I Hate Running”, we don’t actually hate running. We hate the idea of putting ourselves in an uncomfortable situation.