Eight years ago in August 2014, I publicly announced my goal to run a marathon in every state. Thank you, Facebook, for reminding me of this via an “On this day” update.
When I initially wrote that post, I remember I had a rough end date in mind -- pretty much the rest of my life. But didn't have any finish time goals. Why bother?
In addition to the inevitable running injuries that always seem to pop up just when I’ve made big gains, there will always be family and work responsibilities to throw me off track. And given the fact that Father Time is no longer on my side, I figured setting finish time goals might be a great way to destroy my body, my confidence, my resolve.
“Better to just think in terms of finishing one marathon at a time,” I remember telling myself.
In 2014, when I wrote that initial post, I’d already run fourteen marathons, but I'd only covered nine states. I’d never done more than two marathons in one year and couldn't even imagine doing three or more within twelve months.
Given my age at the time, and that at most I’d likely get in two marathons in one year -- if that -- I calculated that it would take something like twenty-five years to reach my goal, hence the rest of my life. My plan: finish that final marathon, then drop dead.
Turns out that didn't happen.
I finished my fiftieth state in 2019. And guess what? I'm not dead yet.
In the process, I learned:
How to cope with losing one parent and almost losing another.
That sometimes running doesn't give me everything I need.
That chocolate is the best recovery drink.
That Aquaphor beats Body Glide every time.
That each state is beautiful in its own way.
That most people are kind.
That I can set a ridiculous goal and reach it.
That I could list another ten things, then another ten, and so on.
I met all sorts of runners with all sorts of goals, most much loftier than my own. Some are now Guinness world record holders for most marathons in a year, most marathons on crutches, most marathons run barefoot. Wow. Talk about humbling.
Some of my new friends do marathons or volunteer at marathons almost every weekend and most weekdays. They live semi-nomadic lives, traveling in trailers and trucks from race to race, from starts to finishes. Some of these remarkable humans have covered the fifty states dozens of times. Their strength and endurance is beyond my understanding, but if I keep doing what I'm doing, maybe one of these days I'll figure them out.
I could write forever on all of this, but now isn't the time. I have some races coming up this fall and I need to get to the gym. It’s speedwork day. I'm working on setting new goals. Some day soon, maybe I'll post them.
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