I was determined, exhausted, and soaked, sloshing my way from the starting line in Hopkinton to central Beantown’s Commonwealth Avenue. It was pouring. Actually, that’s an understatement—the streets turned to sea. Hail fell and gusts of wind blasted through the course as I began the 26.2-mile journey on April 16, 2018. Amidst a field of runners draped in ponchos, anxiety replaced excitement for me on this particular Marathon Monday.
Like any smart marathoner, I’d spent the greater part of the last four months training for this day. I wanted a personal record (Boston would be my sixth full marathon). I knew it was in my reach. I committed to carefully executing a 14-week plan with an emphasis on speed and hill work, staying on track with long runs despite a hectic travel schedule. I even wear-tested shirts, sneakers, and sports bras time and time again to hone in on my perfect day-of ensemble. I spent so much time working on the factors I could control. Then the questions started flooding in: Whyand HowYou Should Taper Before a Marathon?
One week out, I wasn’t too fazed. Ice vs Heat for Injuries, It has to change. Its not my thing, but I can handle it. As it got closer and the forecast worsened, I went into survival mode. I knew I couldn’t change the weather, so I redirected my attention to preparing for what I actually could control: rain shells, hats, waterproof gloves. And soon enough, I was in the thick of it.
Most distinctly, I remember the wind shoving me back like a 230-pound linebacker at mile 18 as I willed myself up the Newton hills. You didn’t come this far to only come this far, I whispered to myself. My shoes, heavy with water, felt like bricks on my feet. My quads were plagued with cramps. My hands were numb as I repeatedly clenched and released my wet fists, trying to find some feeling inside my gloves. You didn’t come this far to only come this far, I repeated. Tears dripped down my face, but it was hard to distinguish them from the torrential rain that fell.
It would’ve been really easy to get angry at this point—frustrated, upset, contemplate a DNF. But instead, in a race in which the number of dropouts was up 50 percent from the previous year, I focused on two things I did have control over to keep me going: my training and meditation.
Training Both Mind and Body
A few weeks before the marathon, my training plan called for a 16-mile long run. Problem was: It was a downpour outside. In my 10-plus years as a runner, I’ve only ever suited up for wet weather a handful of times. I’ve never enjoyed running in the rain, and that day was no exception. But according to Lenny Wiersma, Ph.D., Professor of Sport Psychology at California State University, Fullerton, those miserable, damp miles set me up for success and helped me to better understand my capabilities despite the awful conditions in Boston.
“When something scares you or makes you feel uncomfortable, the best thing you can do is expose yourself to it so you know you can handle it,” he says, comparing my situation to those who may have a fear of flying. In their case, he suggests visiting the airport to practice checking in for a trip, rather than jumping straight onto a plane. “The cessation of suffering is the cessation of the struggle. These experiences—albeit scary—help us learn that the things that scare us aren’t as powerful as we once thought.”
Because of that run, I toed the start line knowing what I was getting myself into. I accepted it. With each and every step, the this-isn’t-my-thing The Benefits of Weightlifting for Women: It’s not my thing, but I can handle it.
“Your goal should not be that you get to the point where you like running in the rain,” he says. “You like what you like. You don’t what you don’t. The goal should be ‘I’m gonna run in the rain, and it might be miserable, but I’m gonna do it.’”
When it comes to the other factors you can’t control on race day, the weather’s just the tipping point. There’s plenty of other things that can go wrong: feeling sick, not being able to find your friends or family, forgetting to pack a piece of essential gear, suffering an unexpected injury, navigating a crowded field, or getting a side stitch that makes you want to throw in the towel. But instead of dwelling on the things you can’t control, Chris Friesen, Ph.D. a, neuropsychologist in Ontario, Canada, suggests zeroing in on what you can command.
“You’ve got to work on distancing yourself from your unhelpful thoughts and feelings,” he says. “The only way to really do this is to accept the fact that our minds often produce unhelpful thoughts and feelings and don’t struggle against them. Once we drop the struggle, they lose their power over us, and we can turn our attention back to what we need to be focusing on.”
This concept is prevalent in meditation practices and coincidentally, this marathon was the first time I’d zeroed in on a conscious, steady meditation practice leading up to race day. Per Frieson’s feedback, that helped me just as much—if not more—than all those lengthy training runs, specifically the concept of noting, or dismissing thoughts without judging that they exist.
Science will co-sign this, too. Even a single mindfulness meditation session can reduce anxiety, according to recent research out of Its not my thing, but I can handle it. With my mind right, I focused my efforts on what was manageable. Before the start, I texted with other runners asking for their layering opinions. I added two extra Drake tracks to my go-to playlist. I helped my dad map out good places on the course to see me as I trudged along. And during the run, my thoughts were on form, not going out too aggressively during the infamous downhill start of the race, fueling appropriately, and simply moving forward.
No longer were the “negatives” negative. Instead, they were just something else to take into account as I pushed forward, and viewing them as such made a world of difference.
Finding the silver lining is powerful and recognizing that something like bad weather can actually give you an edge. “When I raced competitively, I looked forward to bad-weather days,” says Golden Harper, founder of Altra Running, who ran as a collegiate athlete at Brigham Young University. “I’d show up, and my competition was so worried about the conditions. I knew I had the opportunity to take hold of their nerves, perform my best, and do even better. I knew there was no reason to expend energy on something I couldn’t tweak. And so, I didn’t.”
I didn’t, either. I saved my energy for the actual running. I trusted my training. I showed up. And 4:01:37 later, I used all the tools in my toolbox to round that final corner. The apocalypse of sorts, which I’ll always affectionately coin as my Boston Marathon experience, instilled the cheesy-but-true lesson for me that I really am capable of anything I put my mind to. Now, I’m working on spreading that acceptance and positive attitude throughout everything I do—not just when my shoes are laced up.
Emily Abbate is a freelance writer, certified fitness trainer, and host of the podcast Hurdle. You can find her work in GQ, Shape, Runner’s World, Published: Apr 10, 2019.
