What Kind of Runner Am I Anyway?

The deadline to receive a refund for the LA Marathon is fast approaching (1/31).  I bring this up to say that I am having very serious doubts about my ability to do the race this year.  

I was devastated on Sunday to have logged a DNF on my Sunday long run, completing less than 6 miles of a supposed 11-13 miles. I went into Sunday with a lot of confidence having completed a good speed workout with Jeff at his office last Friday. Jeff gave me the assignment for Sunday with full confidence that I could complete the mileage (albeit at a slow pace), with minimal pain.  

I was therefore really surprised to find myself at a near limp by the time I completed about 4 miles of the flat course.  It got so bad, I just couldn't continue.

When I say devastated, I mean devastated.  I went through the whole bout of depression and doubt all over again.  The dialogue goes something like this: "I am going to give this up - it's no use.  My running days are through.  After all, I'm nearly 50.  I can get fat and old and tired and no one will really notice.  What difference does it make? Scr_w it!"

Resignation didn't last for long.  I just can't give in.  I just can't.  

I was scheduled for running on the treadmill this morning.  People, I just couldn't face it.  Where is the joy in running without  the birds and the green and the big fat SUVs trying to run me over?  As I taped up my knee, I decided to run my favorite 'ole maintenance run - just over 4 miles of mostly flat terrain with a humungous uphill at the end.

I did it!  Yes - I was slow, but I consciously kept my pace (and the pain) down on purpose...just to see. Early in my run I came across several other runners... the wave of the hand, the nod of the head.  I had to smile.  This is why I love running.  Then, I saw a woman - maybe in her late sixties running down the road at a pretty good clip. As I caught up to her it suddenly dawned on me that perhaps I am approaching this thing all wrong; and I'm doing something that I swore I would never do: get so competitive with myself that I lose sight of the ultimate goal - which for me is to be a runner for life.  I want to be that 75 year old woman running down the road in 25 years.  Must I complete this 26.2 mile goal to be a "real" runner?  I have told myself that the answer is "yes."  Now, I am beginning to have my doubts.

Even still, I feel so good right now I can't even describe it.  I had only minimal pain at the end...and did apply ice just for good measure.  My doubts about being able to do training mileage are real.  4-5 miles seems to be threshold for me right now.

But It seems to me that the most foolish thing I can possibly do at this point is to re-injure myself by pushing too hard.  Yet, if I don't push hard, I don't stand a chance of finishing the marathon. Which is more important to me?  What kind of runner am I if I never complete a full marathon?  Will my attempt to meet my own short-term expectations of myself preclude my long-term goal - to enjoy running well into my 90s?

I have 3 more days to struggle with this question.

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