I never thought I'd say these words, but right now, I am in the thicket of marathon training. 26.2 miles. Something I thought I would never do. Something most people in my life told me I was not capable of.
Guess what? Marathon training has been going well. It's weird to think that I used to train for 13.1 miles, because now that seems like a reasonable training run. The dreaded 20 milers are being completed, and the pain lessens with every run. I log weekly mileages of 35-40 miles, and as time consuming as training has been, I think I've been pretty successful at integrating it into my schedule.
But with my marathon less than a month away, I am really looking forward to taper. My muscles don't seem to be recovering between runs anymore; instead of getting stronger, I feel weaker every time I lace up my shoes. My legs feel like wet noodles all the time. I've been cutting some runs short because I have become genuinely afraid that I won't be able to make it home.
Exhaustion has permeated my every day life too. I struggle with taking the stairs at work because I am so weak. I have accidentally fallen asleep at a grotesquely early hour every night these past weeks, yet still slept through my alarm in the morning. And I've completely lost my appetite. A lot of foods make me nauseous, and those that don't still sound repulsive.
My classmates have remarked that the food issue, and not the running issue, might be the primary cause of my extreme fatigue. We spend a lot of time together, and they have remarked that I don't seem to eat a lot, especially for how much I have been exercising.
It actually makes a lot of sense. I've been eating (I think) the same amount as before, but running twice as much. In reality, I've probably been eating less because my appetite has been so suppressed. I've started making a conscious effort to eat a little bit all the time, and seeing if that will help me salvage my training.
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