I’m mostly a marathoner. Yet recently I’ve started strength training, and it’s teaching me something new about myself.
Why do I gravitate toward marathons?
Well, first I don’t just mean actual 26.2-mile marathons. Marathoning includes those of course, but it’s also my shorthand for running for distance as opposed to speed.
This is what I like about going slow and long distances: It totally fits who I am. I’ve never been good at picking things up quickly — physically or otherwise, but especially physically. But once I get something, I really get it, and I don’t go halfway with it.
I thrive in the monotony of doing a seemingly rote physical task outside for a long, long time. I like to do full-day hikes and long bike races, ski races and, yes, long runs. My mind is constantly whirring even though it gives my brain a break. It’s kind of like being unfocused while being hyper-focused on just one thing. Sometimes it actually feels like I’m floating a little above myself watching me. My brain finds room to relax and expand.
It’s kind of like un-focusing my vision to re-focus and unlock one of those Magic Eye puzzles from the 1990s. Marathon-type activity trains my brain to click into a different set of gears in order to access different ways of being in the world. This ultimately helps me solve real-life problems because through endurance I gain perspective.
I’ve always admired people who are more focused on strength, or more dynamic activities like rock climbing or traditional sports. When it comes to sports, I’m not very fun. OK — I’m not fun at all. I have zero coordination, and I’m a lot more interested in people-watching than I am in winning.
As far as rock climbing goes, I love the idea of being outside and needing to focus every fiber of my being on finding the path forward and moving my body fluidly into it. But, it’s too cerebral. I do endurance activities to escape my brain, not burrow further into it.
So — lifting? It’s kind of left field, given all of this.
But in the past year or so, my life has demanded something different of me more than ever before. Ever since I can remember, my orientation has been toward achieving some big goal. Maybe it was graduating college, getting the new job, performing well in the new job, leading a big project or series of projects, or even being a spouse and stepparent. I had the ideal of where I want to be and I worked toward it every step of the way.
That’s basically running a marathon, right? The race itself is a culmination of the training. If I don’t train, I never learn, never adjust, never get better, and ultimately the race itself is painful and also a painful memory.
But for some reason, marathoning recently started to feel boring to me. I knew I could do the race. Where’s the thrill in that? Where’s the unknown, the possibility of achieving big goals in life?
I started gravitating more toward the idea of strength and power. This was a reflection of more challenging dynamics in my life that were demanding something different from me. I was finding myself in situations where I needed more agility.
About a month ago, I signed up for the gym. With a ton of help from my husband, I started a strength training program.
Strength training is all about form. It’s about figuring out how to do a move right and repeatedly to build strength without getting injured. It’s about gradually adding more and more weight and knowing how far to push without breaking.
It builds muscle. It builds memory. Over time, I find the moves are getting easier. And bonus: maybe it’s all in my head, but my arms look good!
Strength training isn’t instead of marathon training, it’s in addition to marathon training — yes, I’m actually training for a race. Interestingly, my long runs are getting a little easier and I can’t help but wonder if that’s a result of all of those squats and deadlifts.
Who knows what I’ll need next, but it’s exciting and fascinating that at this phase in my life, running plus strength training is providing me the orientation I need.
Allie Harvey lives in Palmer and plays in Southcentral Alaska.