Seeing Stinson from the Dipsea on our anniversary trail run.

My husband and I celebrated our 20-year wedding anniversary with our idea of a dream date: We ditched our two kids with relatives and ran the Dipsea Trail from Mill Valley to Stinson Beach and back. Along the 14 miles of rutted trail and steep stairways that climb out of redwoods to reveal the San Francisco Bay, I wondered how I’ve been married and running for so long when I generally struggle with commitment and battle boredom. I drop in and out of the workforce and start way more books than I ever finish. Half-baked projects litter my desk, and unaccountable gaps wreck my resume.

And yet here I am with Morgan, the high school boyfriend I married at 21, and here I am training for a 50-mile trail race after 15 years of running and finishing some 30 marathons. I can tell myself, I must not be a total flake or failure, because I have a good marriage and I’m a good runner.

Surely there’s a connection between my marriage and running, but what is it?

Relationships and running both start the same way, with that magic potion called passion. Both spark a thrill that inevitably wanes and takes ongoing effort to rekindle. The rekindling happens by deliberately trying new things, new routes, new challenges.

This is more of "a miss" than a kiss -- it's hard to kiss while holding out a camera and trying to take a picture, but fun to try!

But as much as anything, relationships take acceptance and respect for differences. Having my life partner also be my running partner helped me better understand this.

A few miles into the Dipsea, I let Morgan pass so we could take turns setting the pace. I noticed he inadvertently put his shirt on inside-out and probably forgot to put sunscreen on his neck. He’s experimenting with running in sandals, so he kept pausing to shake out pebbles trapped underfoot. He didn’t care at all about how long the run took us because he never logs his time or mileage, and he doesn’t even wear a stopwatch.

We’re so different as runners — and, of course, I think my way is the right way — but he continuously rebuffs my attempts to coach him. Year after year I bug him to try track workouts for speed, to do core work for strengthening, to stretch to prevent injuries, to stick to a weekly running plan, to set some goals for races — in short, to become a better runner by running more like me.

But he won’t listen. If anything, he rebels and deliberately does the opposite of my advice. Our spoken and unspoken communication about running devolves into a proxy for other power struggles in our relationship — squabbles both mundane (how best to cook and clean) and profound (how to deal with personal and professional frustrations).

Finally I gave up trying to coach him and simply celebrated the fact that he runs at all and that he supports my running. And then Morgan surprised me: He got better on his own. He started running more frequently and longer, and also started mountain biking. He’s doing it his way, and I’m impressed and totally happy for him.

He's running in Keen sandals, his shirt is inside-out, he wears a normal watch without a stopwatch, he doesn't have on enough sunscreen, and this squat is the extent of his flexibility since he never stretches. He is who he is!

Likewise, I stopped constantly coaching him about what to do about his stress and unhappiness — I tried to act more like a consultant with a sympathetic ear and less like a frustrated mother toward him — and boy, did he surprise me. He decided on his own to change his life, and in the process quit his job and took the kids and me around the world for a year of travel and homeschooling. I’ve never loved him more, and we definitely laugh a lot more these days.

People sometimes ask, “Don’t you get bored running?” And they often ask, “Have you and Morgan been together this whole time?” which is an indirect way of asking, “Don’t you get bored with each other?” I tell them it doesn’t have to be boring. Year after year, you just have to keep it fresh and keep growing and improving, always on the lookout for signs of burnout and injury.

A few years ago, I was forced to take several months off from running to cope with severe Achilles tendonitis, and I worked with a podiatrist and trainer to fix my flawed biomechanics. This ultimately helped me run better on the trails and prevented further flareups. Someone told me at the time, “Sometimes you have to break down to retool and rebuild the right way.”

The same could be said of our marriage: It broke down nearly completely, and after years of effort and pints of tears shed on a therapist’s couch, it significantly improved and has pretty much avoided re-injury.

I’ve always thought that marriage mirrors a long point-to-point trail run with exhilarating peaks and a few tough valleys. But perhaps long-term relationships and long-term running are more cyclical than linear. Both cycle through periods of comfort and crisis; that is, a relationship can hum along, and a partner can be almost an afterthought, just like a six-mile loop you run week after week at the same pace can feel as familiar as your own house.

Then along comes a crisis, which really is the flip side of an opportunity. (I once heard that the Chinese character for “crisis” and “opportunity” are the same, which I’m not sure is true, but I like the idea.) Maybe it’s a new job or a move, or maybe it’s something more ominous like infidelity, and it presents an opportunity for the couple to decide whether they will confront the challenges together, openly and honestly, and navigate change, or whether they’ll give up on the union.

The same thing can happen with running: You get injured and yearn to be able to run even half of that six-mile loop, so you stop taking it for granted. Or you discover a new sport and decide to put running on hold. It’s an opportunity to consider whether running is really “your thing,” and why, really, do you do it day after day? What could make it better?

Marriage, like trail running, is an adventure full of risks and rewards. It takes effort and always can be improved. Sometimes you’ll like your partner more than at other times, just as some weeks or months you’ll feel better running than at other times. Sometimes you’ll have no desire for either. But if given the choice to commit or quit, ask yourself whether you genuinely love the person, flaws and all, and whether you genuinely love the experience of running, fatigue and all.

Yes, I do, and I’m glad I said “I do” way-back-when.

Morgan runs through Muir Woods ...

... and I take the stairs at the turn-around by Stinson.

All right, enough reflection — it’s time to get out for a run. I started this series of blog posts to journal about my training for a 50-miler, but I knew I’d occasionally digress and reflect more generally about life, because running exercises my brain as well as my legs. So here’s a recap of the last two weeks (please read the Week 1 post if you’re wondering what the following is all about).

Week 3:

Mileage: 51

Number of days and time running: 6 days; 8 hrs, 20 min

Longest run: 20.5, solo from Skyline almost all the way to Lone Oak and back (Golden Hills/Firetrails course).

Speed workout? No, still not getting back to the track; just concentrated on increasing mileage.

Cross training? Yes; went to the gym twice for upper body strength/core workout and balance exercises. On Sunday, the recovery day, I rode the bike and elliptical trainer a half hour easy to help legs recover from long run.

Week 4:

Mileage: 50

Number of days and time running: 6 days; 9 hrs., 40 min.

Longest run: 14; Double Dipsea anniversary run midweek with Morgan. Also did faster trail run, 13.5 mi, on Saturday, with some tempo-pace middle miles. Having house guests made it difficult to get out for a run longer than 2 hours on the weekend.

Speed workout? No, just a few uptempo miles thrown in here and there.

Cross training? Yes, twice to gym, both times for core conditioning and balance/PT exercises, plus some bike and elliptical for warmup.

What I did both weeks to prevent injury: Used the foam roller after harder runs; went to the gym for balance and ankle flexibility work. Alternated hard/easy days.

Final thoughts: I’m more excited than daunted by the training weeks ahead as I ramp up to the fall race. I’m also starting to feel better about being back in Piedmont, although I’m missing our months of travel and find myself grasping at memories, worried I’ll forget all that happened and lose some of what we gained by the time away. I’m feeling more grounded and trying to discover new things here at home.

Tags: Dipsea Trail, marathoning, marriage therapy, relationship advice, relationships, Running, trail running, Ultrarunning, what marriage taught me about running

This entry was posted on Tuesday, July 6th, 2010 at 2:38 pm and is filed under Blog. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.