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Lessons Learned From A Marathon
Hetty Irmer, LCSW-C
Vol. X, No. 5
November/December, 2006
Recently I completed my first marathon, 26.2 miles
of physical and mental endurance. It was an accomplishment that was
a long time in coming. I had first entertained the idea years ago,
but wasn’t ready to commit to the time, effort and discipline
required. Finally, four years ago, I started the training but was
overambitious and injured myself. It took another three years to
recommit to a marathon. Then, there was one full year of intentional
physical and mental training before I was prepared to go the distance.
Running a marathon is similar to what many people
go through in early recovery. Initial ambivalence about the commitment
to recovery can
cause an individual to postpone taking the steps that are needed
to live a healthy lifestyle. Then, when one does decide to take
the step into recovery, circumstances may occur that distract from
the
goal of a healthy lifestyle. And finally, when a person finally
commits to living a recovery lifestyle, it takes time before he/she
is able
to implement all of the elements of that lifestyle into daily life.
During my marathon training, I faced a number of
setbacks and challenges. There was a period of time when I could
not train due to another
commitment. I also had a number of small injuries, the “growing
pains” of my body learning how to do something new. At one
point near the end of the training, with the race just a few weeks
away, I sprained my back. Throughout these experiences, and especially
with my back injury, I feared I would not be able to accomplish
my goal of running the marathon. Dealing with my fears was emotionally
draining, and it took a lot of willpower to continue training.
Again, the parallels to recovery are strong. For
many people, establishing a recovery lifestyle brings emotional “growing pains” that
accompany the hard work of living life in new ways. Recovery often
includes the setback of relapses, and it can be tempting to give
up when it seems at the moment that all that one has worked for
has been lost. It is only through perseverance in the midst of these
emotionally, and often physically, taxing periods that recovery
can
be sustained and deepened.
When race day finally came, I had to summon all of
my physical, mental and emotional resources to tackle the task at
hand. First,
I dealt
with the pre-race jitters that led me to question my ability to
complete the race. I shared my feelings with my training buddies,
soothing
myself through positive self-talk (e.g., “You trained for this – you
can do this”), and releasing some physical energy by stretching
and walking. Once the race had started, I had a little over four
hours to spend by myself, doing the most physically challenging
activity I have ever attempted. In the days and weeks preceding
the race,
I had taken time to mentally envision myself running the race successfully,
and I had practiced what I would do when it became difficult. I
also tapped into the support and strength of friends and loved
ones whom
I knew would encourage me.
Setting up my “support system” in this
way gave me the courage to believe that I could succeed. I also tapped
into lessons
I had learned during the training. I created an “internal
coach” – a
internal voice that gave me strength and encouragement during the
difficult middle section of the course and in the arduous last
three miles. Throughout the race, I used many different strategies
to keep
my mind focused and my body relaxed, so that I could handle whatever
came my way. For example, every time a spectator rang a cowbell
(which happened often) I would check my breathing, the foundation
of any
physical activity. This enabled me to access all of my physical
endurance and to feel strong even in the middle of a long race.
I also smiled
as much as possible, which helped my mood and also encouraged
spectators to support me. A support network is essential in recovery,
both
for encouragement when the going gets tough and to gain wisdom
from others
as one develops his/her values and goals.
Finally, when it became painful to keep moving forward,
I did not allow myself to entertain thoughts of quitting. Instead,
I thought
of what I am grateful for ( e.g., my physical health and the love
and support of others), which distracted me from the pain of the
moment and enabled me to access inner reserves of determination
and commitment to the task at hand: completing the marathon. For
the
last two miles, every step was hard. Yet, by that time I had gotten
through so much that I knew I would make it. At the end of the
race, I lifted my arms in victory – an act I had practiced
in my mind and on my training runs dozens of times.
The finish itself was oddly anti-climactic, but deeply
satisfying nonetheless. Recovery can be experienced similarly. In
recovery,
an individual is able to tap into mental, emotional, social and
even physical resources when they encounter difficulty. An individual
with more sustained time in recovery, transitions from “doing” recovery
to “being in” recovery, something to be savored day
by day.
My marathon lessons will stay with me for the rest
of my life. I have learned that I have the ability to tackle difficulty
with
optimism
and perseverance, and that I can accomplish goals that I set before
me if I stay committed to the process. I was also reminded that
I am loved and supported by many people. These are lessons that
individuals
in recovery also learn through the practice of recovery itself.
As it says in “The 12 Promises” of the 12-Step programs,
we will come to know “the freedom of a happy life” if
we trust the process of recovery. That’s a race we can all
win. LUKENOTES is a bimonthly
publication of Saint Luke Institute.
Permission to use these materials must be requested in writing by contacting
lukenotes@sli.org
SLI EDUCATION
DEPARTMENT
Saint Luke Institute
8901 New Hampshire Ave.
Silver Spring, MD 20903
(301) 422-5499 • (301) 422-5519 (fax)
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