If you’ve read more than one of my articles—or, perhaps even just more than one word of one article—you know that I am the epitome of novice, and I embrace that fact.
Over the course of the past six-or-so months, I’ve had to learn everything from how to lace a pair of running shoes, to the evils of cotton, to how and when to eat the weird gooey substance that makes long runs suck less. I’ve learned the importance of a great podcast, renewed my love/hate relationship with early morning hours—and, most recently, become all too well acquainted with the risks of ignoring aches and pains.
I couldn’t qualify for Boston if I hopped in a car and drove the last five miles of a marathon.
I wasn't telling their story. I wasn't telling your story. I was only telling my own.
I’m “just a dude who hurt his knee”—but one that happens to have a platform. My story was, by no means, one of the best or most important stories being written in Dallas on Dec. 11. But it was my story, the only one I’ve got to this point, and the hope was that others who’ve suffered similar race day disappointment may find solace in our commonality—and, more importantly, that other novice runners may avoid a similar pitfall should they find themselves in a similar situation.
The thing about a marathon—or any endurance race with open entry for that matter—is that the competitors aren’t really competing against each other, but against themselves. So many people had stories and circumstances all their own on that day—lots of them far more noteworthy than mine. But I wasn’t telling their story. I wasn’t telling your story. I was only telling my own.
In an effort to be authentic, I put little or no thought into censoring the piece for smoother public consumption—I really didn’t see that it needed it. In the end, regrettably, I swung and missed with a word.
I’m a runner—a novice, everyman runner— and I’m proud to be a part of the running community. I’m also an editor who cares deeply about fostering a feeling of familiarity amongst my readers. I want to always write honestly and share both struggles and triumphs—large or small as each might be—with an unfiltered lens through which others can truly identify.
For some, my story about the Dallas Marathon resonated. For others, one word distracted from nearly 1,700 others. If you were of the latter group, I’m sorry for that. I certainly did not intend to take away from the accomplishments of others.
Above all else, thank you for making ACTIVE what it is—a truly special place to congregate and discuss a sport and a lifestyle that means so much to each of us.
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