Wednesday, November 2, 2011

It's a Marathon, Not a Share-athon!

When Mr. Wonderful and I signed up to do the Healdsburg Half Marathon, both of us were concerned that his knees might not be up for the task. He experiences pain just about every time he goes more than a couple miles or tries to run downhill. I, on the other hand, haven't had any issues with my knees during any of the training for my four prior half marathons. Which is why I was shocked when my leg decided to gimp out on me this past weekend.

We had just passed the mile 7 marker when the outside of my right knee started to ache. I figured it was just tight or a little tweaked from some of the rolling hills. But with each mile we completed, it hurt more and more. By mile 10, it felt like there was a dwarf running my my side, hammering it with each step I took. Sounds like a new show on TLC—The Little Hammersmiths. Anyway, the pain was sharp and constant. I was literally grunting with each step.

When I saw the mile 13 sign, I was beyond done. Mr. W, trying to lighten the mood, said, "At least we can go in for double knee replacements together!"

"Can you not talk to me until we're done?" I said back.

I'm pretty sure he wanted to respond with "Fine beeyatch!" but instead he just went silent.

As we recounted the story to some friends the next morning over breakfast, the wife shared a similar story with us about a time she was sick. Lying on the floor, she called out to her husband (who was sleeping) to tell him she felt ill. He rushed to her side and began rubbing her back.

"Don't touch me," she told him.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked.

"Don't talk to me," she answered.

Defeated, he got up to go back to bed.

"Don't leave me!" his wife cried out.

Crack up.

I was thinking about her situation and mine on the (very) long drive home from Napa and I think I came up for a reason why we sometimes need silent support.

This may be a woman thing, or maybe just a me thing, but when someone talks to me I feel like I have to answer. When Mr. W touches me, I feel compelled to respond. So when I'm in pain or grumpy or starving, it's not that I don't want him talking to or touching me—it's that I don't want to have to reciprocate in any way. Because I'm hurting and pissed about it.

Fortunately Mr. W forgave me after we crossed the finish line. Still not sure if it was my improved attitude or the free wine tasting that prompted that...


  1. I love your and your friend's stories. Hilarious (after the fact, of course). It reminds me of my first marathon. A girlfriend (who had already completed her own first marathon) flew out to San Diego to support me. She even jumped in at one point to run with me. I had no words. No emotions. No responses. And she talked my ear off. She expected nothing in return - it's why I adore her so much as a friend. I was a grumpy witchy witch and she responded with smiles!

  2. yay! I got word verification to work! :)

    Now...I think it's great you this race together, and that you stuck together the whole time...that's what it's all about...and the second you cross the finish line the pain is a distant memory.
    What's next on your race schedule?

  3. Aw, I hope your injury is temporary! Congrats to both of you on your finish!

    I can't explain it either but when I'm in a foul mood, sometimes I'll just call someone who loves me and have absolutely nothing to talk about and yet not want to go. Anyone else would be annoyed but it's great to have those special few that understand. Silent support, that will be my new name for it. :)

  4. first of all- i love love love that pic of you at the end with the medal and the wine! how cute are you?
    secondly, congrats! you made it, even if in some pain while finishing.
    what a good point you made there at the end! it's so true- i always feel like i need to reply, engage, have some... interaction, when offered any sort of comment or gesture from someone. it sometimes annoys me when matt doesn't say anything when he's in pain on a run and i tell him, "we're almost there!" but you reminded me, that's a big difference between men and women. we feel we need to engage, men... they are happy to just be. not happy to be in pain, but you know what i mean.

  5. Nilsa - Her story totally cracked me up. I can picture it perfectly. Your friend is awesome for jumping in and running with you. I was just thinking this weekend that I need to go cheer people on at races more often.

    Laura - I'm so glad you're back! It wasn't the same here without you! I was considering doing the Tinkerbell race through Disneyland but it's sold out, so I don't my next race. Maybe Santa Ynez again in May?!

    LesleyG - Thankfully the knee feels totally normal now. We'll see how it holds up whenever I get around to trying to run on it. I like your tactic for getting over a foul mood. I may have to try it!

    Brookem - Thank YOU for pointing out that men are different from us when it comes to this stuff. I never stopped to think about how sometimes Mr. W just goes silent because he's uncomfortable or in pain. We could learn a few things from those men of ours!

  6. I am totally the same way. When I am hurting I don't want to talk or be touched, but I don't want to be alone. I think the reason you give is spot on. Thanks for bringing light to it for me. Seriously.

    I have terrible knees. They ache when I go down stairs or hills. If Nia involves a lot of kicks that day, they get sore quick. I feel old. I don't want to have surgery! Boo. I feel yours and Mr. W's knee pain.

  7. Sizzle - maybe we can get a 3-for-1 (or 6-for-2) deal on knee replacements!

  8. You can always do the Surf City half in February! I'm signed's Super Bowl Sunday!! :) Maybe we should try to plan another family trip for Santa Ynez...that was a lot of fun. Let me know what you think.


Well, whatdya think?