Almost Ready

Long runs help improve my endurance. And it builds (sometimes breaks) my confidence  on running a marathon.

For my previous 21 and 27-kilometer runs, I took it easy. I believed I was just warming up for the longer long runs up ahead on my marathon training schedule.

For the Sunday runs, I will start from our house to Silang Proper, to Aguinaldo National Hiway towards Tagaytay City, back to Silang Proper, then to "Welcome Silang" arc and then back to our house. I would start running from five in the morning until just before the clock hits eight. Less than three hours of roadwork.. 21 to 27 long kilometers.. Still running less than the marathon distance.

Last Sunday, I upped the long run to 31 long kilometers. For the first time this year, I reached that thin line that separates Silang from Tagaytay. I did want to raise my clenched fists at that point. It was almost my finish line. But nope. I still have 18 more kilometers to run. Save the celebration later.. My long run journey wasn't even at the halfway mark. I need to go back and reach the other end of Silang - that which connects my town to Dasmarinas.

It wasn't easy.

It wasn't all fun.

The last 5 kilometers or so were just energy-depleting. I felt like my eyes were about to close in any given second. My legs were turning into spaghetti and my arms were fastened to my sides - all locked, rigid and almost immovable.

For those last 5 kilometers, I was almost running a full marathon. It was hell unleashed.

My body has betrayed me. My spirit is giving up. Bathing in sweat all over my body from the tip of my hair to the nails of my toes, those were the longest five kilometers of my training runs. Heaven, at that point in time, would just be lying down on the side of the road and just be able to rest. Yet I must go on. With the longest kilometers yet against the proud mighty heat of the rising sun..

I kept on running.

And kept on running.

At least I felt I was running. Though it might not look like it from an early morning distant spectator. My speed at seven or eight minutes per kilometer was just a tiny bit faster than walking.

Upon entrance to our door house, I was barely able to smile. But I felt something within wanting to scream. After all those pains and loneliness and suffering.. There is but one thing that truly separates the beauty of a long hard run.. That feeling that only comes after enduring a true test of the human will, spirit, physical limit and bravery.. Knowing that I have endured after all the seemingly insurmountable hardships I just experienced on the road.. This is the beauty of the long marathon run.

Feeling it all over again.. flowing in my veins and screaming in my spirit.. I know I am almost marathon-ready. I am getting there both physically and mentally. One more 31 and two more 35-kilometer Sunday runs.

I have not accomplished anything yet.

But I'm almost ready.

Or so I felt.