Sydney Marathon 2025 started in 2024 for all of us. Signing up a year or so in advance for some events, especially the Marathon Majors races, is standard operating procedure. I don’t recall exactly when I signed up. Early September last year maybe? Not sure why I signed up either. Best guess is I was probably on an endorphin high from a recent workout. Or maybe I’d just downed a glass of wine and was reading some runner’s story about crushing their latest marathon goals and thought, “Hey! I want that!” What I’m saying is, reality was not exactly on my mind when I signed up. There were likely delusions of grandeur involved, too.
These delusions that I can do more than I think I can? Ongoing. Proof: Already have the next bunch of races lined up.
So back to Sydney stuff. It’s a half year after sign-up and a few weeks after I walked the London Marathon when, after passing all the stress tests and going off the low blood pressure meds, my primary care doc sort of gave me permission to train for Sydney though she was not thrilled that I still planned on doing it.
“Don’t over-exert yourself,” she said, and reminded me to keep that cardiology appointment in July that had been set up months earlier, weeks after I passed out.
Naturally, I interpreted her words like this: “Try not to run too much. Walk indoors on the treadmill, just to be on the safe side. That way if you pass out someone will be there to call 911. Good luck. I’m cheering for you.” Wow. I’m going to have to google that sometime, the psychological term for that next-level type of warped thinking.
The doc did not mention the word ‘treadmill,’ not even once. But for whatever reason, that’s where my mind went when she told me to avoid exertion. Weird, I know.
Like most cats and all human beings who are not psychopaths, I hate treadmills. I hate them almost as much as I hate ellipticals. They’re boring. But both types of machines are at my gym along with people who can dial 911 if I pass out. So, that’s the thinking I guess, yup deeply flawed, behind the training plan I developed: Treadmill walk/run one day, elliptical the next. Then I added in some spice – how about a marathon or two every couple of weeks?
Stupid? Maybe. Okay, probably. But effective. And in my head, relatively safe. The marathons I scheduled were mostly risk-free. They weren’t tight time-limited, point-to-point courses through strange, empty landscapes or blighted metropolises. These were multi-day, multi-loop no-runner-left-behind events at friendly, park-like trails. Also, I knew what I was getting into: I had the pleasure of being part of dozens of these particular races over the last several years. I knew for a fact that there was always someone nearby. I knew and trusted the race directors and also was acquainted with most of the athletes. If I started developing any weird symptoms, I could easily slow down, stop and rest for a while, or quit. In my head, my training plan was only slightly stupid.
Over the next three months, I dreadmilled and ellipted myself to insanity, and ran/walked seven marathons and one half marathon. I played it super safe, relatively speaking. I’d show up at these seven- or eight-day series for a day, two max, run a little, walk a lot, chat with other participants with aspirations beyond my understanding – many were racing every single day and another time I’ll probably write about how insanely awesome these athletes are, space out to my music, then drive to the next race or head home.
Confess that I totally felt like an imposter, doing my laid-back walk/run thing for a lousy day or two while surrounded by so many superhumans who were sweating the limits of human endurance for a week or more at a time. But I’m glad I got to be there. I got to share air space with some of the best athletes on the planet – inspiring beyond belief – got stronger, and most importantly gained back some of the confidence that got obliterated at Tokyo.
Mid-July, the cardiologist I’d been waiting to see since I passed out five months earlier looked over all my testing and gave me the official okay to return to running. At that moment, felt a dump truck of stress lift from my shoulders. He didn’t go so far as to blame my blood pressure meds for my issues, but he did tell me my blood pressure is fine, and I should not be taking meds.
He also ordered one more test, a CT scan to check for blood vessel blockages. I’m beyond grateful for this. My dad had severe arterial blockages when he was my age and almost died as a result. My mother and some of her family members had aneurysms. Given my parents’ medical history, and the fact that I’m pushing the limits when it comes to family athletic endeavors, testing more than makes sense.
The doc asked for the Sydney Marathon date and noted to schedule the test before I left for Sydney, if possible. He told me to not worry if I didn’t get the test until after the marathon because chances are good that I’m fine. Well, those weren’t his exact words but that’s the gist and I’m dead serious about that.
One month later, I was on the plane to Australia, more than grateful for all that training time at the gym and on the trails. Sure, it’s not ideal having just five weeks, between the doc’s okay to run and marathon day, to actually run, rather than walk, some miles, especially when you’ve been told for half a year before that to take it easy. But given that Sydney has a generous cutoff time and given all my walking with bits of running sprinkled in, I was pretty confident I’d be okay.
Glad I didn’t do what my primary care doc originally suggested: put my life on hold until after the cardiology appointment. That would have made for a super stressful race day.
It’s been two weeks since the Sydney Marathon, and almost six weeks since the CT scan was ordered. I’m still waiting for it to be scheduled. It took a month for insurance to approve the procedure, and the testing place still hasn’t received the paperwork, so can’t fit me in just yet.Yes, since returning from Australia I’ve been calling the doc’s office every day to remind them to get that info forwarded pronto. I’m also back at the gym. I’m nothing if not persistent. Truly.
Next up: A post about the actual race because this writing around it is getting old and Sydney was freaking amazing.
More later. Gotta run.
No comments:
Post a Comment