The Rocky Mountain Collegian

Issue date: 4/4/08 Section: Features

Elizabeth Coz [Click to enlarge]

Typically, I insist, "I'm not a runner," in conversations about this marathon. Honestly, I don't even enjoy the blistering feet, aching back, uncomfortable breathing or the feeling of aged knees at 22 years old. People ask, "You paid how much money to torture yourself?" And I ask myself the same question- often. The last thing I want to do is sacrifice sleep to spend between one to four hours running.

So why do I do it? I'm running the marathon because it confirms in my mind my ability to push myself above and beyond what's expected. There are a lot of things about me that are far from perfect, but finishing a marathon is something in which I will never find a flaw.

The mere fact that I will have run 26.2 consecutive miles is parallel to my having earned a bachelor's degree; the T-shirt I will wear will be like the diploma I will hang on my wall-a symbol that asserts my ability to challenge myself.

The fun of this marathon comes from the carb-loading parties my running partners and I throw, rationalizing the nearly $50 purchase of gold, glittery sequined spandex, regular sightings of St. Louis monuments, experimentation with every flavor of electrolyte beverage and jelly beans, the excitement of a new music play list, and disciplined, regular exercise. This marathon has become a way for me to self-enforce time for mental-health therapy.

Besides having a dedicated time to listen to loud music, subjecting myself to the rigors of running 12 to 40 miles a week became scheduled hours for emptying my mind of racing thoughts and allowing for single-task management-a rarity.

The mental and spiritual clarity I get out of running facilitates my full appreciation of these last few months at Saint Louis University. Running, for me, is like what St. Ignatius intended for others with the Spiritual Exercises: It facilitates my holistic spirituality.

Author Benjamin Cheever said, "I worried that when I came to die, I might discover I had not lived. 'If I run a marathon, I will have lived.' I also thought I might die." During training runs of 16 miles and above, I thought I might die.

These aches and pains I have are associated with the elderly; the scent of IcyHot and the blisters on my feet that make walking on broken glass seem easy, if not inviting, are not fun. Glamorous is not the word I would use to describe the salt that dries on my face after a long run. And outrage doesn't even begin to explain my frustration when water fountains are not working.

But blissful is my sentiment, once I stop. Knowing I successfully finished any run, and that it made me one run closer to the ultimate finish line, is the high that laces my shoes and pushes me out the door after a full day of work and classes.

I'm not racing the marathon; I'm running it. Averaging nine-and-a-half-minute miles puts me in no competitive tier. I fear I might die, but my motto is, "slow and steady crosses the finish." I crave the bliss of having finished a marathon.

My emotions are scattered. I'm nervous. I'm excited. However, I want the training to be done. I will miss having a set schedule and conversing with friends. I won't miss the consequences of forgotten applications of BodyGlide and can't wait to celebrate weekends at Humphrey's.

Forget about PRing, finishing is my only mission. Between my golden spandex, the friends I have to run with, the Graeter's ice cream my mom and dad will have waiting for me at the finish and everyone cheering on the sidelines, I know I will finish.

Knowing I followed through with a goal is more memorable than measurable. Nothing tops 26.2 miles of sweat, struggle and spirit as a "senior capstone" experience.


Elizabeth Coz is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences and will run in the St. Louis Marathon Sunday, April 6.

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