I will be the first to admit that of the various sports I do, I am least competent at technical mountain biking.

Unlike running, road riding, or even riding on packed trails, mountain biking demands mental effort as much as physical. While riding a twisty, rocky, trail — especially one with lots of steep drops — you have to constantly think of the best way to ride through. A mistake and you could very quickly be embracing the ground. (That’s about the time I say “I’m really getting too old for this sh*t..”)

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I believe that there is no sporting event quite like a marathon.

The marathon is the Olympics for the ordinary person. The ordinary person doing an extraordinary thing. A sporting event in which complete amateurs can take their position on the starting line alongside world class athletes. A sporting event where the majority of participants, the vast majority, are competing not to win, but to prove to themselves what they are capable of.

Anyone reading this can complete a marathon. Really. Train for about four or five months, and if you are mentally dedicated to completing a marathon, you will do so.

No, it’s not easy. Not at all. It will take running when you don’t feel like it, running in bad weather, running with aches and pains and blisters. But the one thing it does not require is innate, natural ability. You will never throw a ball for the Ravens or the Yankees. You will not win an Olympic Gold Medal in anything, not even synchronized swimming. But you CAN finish a marathon if you are determined enough.

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A few years ago, I was in Tiveria getting ready for my second marathon.  I had trained meticulously for this race.

I devoured every e-mail from the Bet Shemesh running club and ran every training run at the precise pace that would enable me to hit my goal time in the big race. I was as obsessed and focused as a newly minted B’all Shuva throwing on a big black hat within months of giving up cheeseburgers. (Can’t explain. You either get this or you don’t.) I lived and breathed marathon training. At all sorts of ridiculous times I would go out running to make sure I was doing everything possible that would enable me to hit my goal time come race day.

Nothing was going to stop me running the race of my life. Nothing.

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The week after a marathon is one of my favorites.

You still feel the pride of running the big race, of getting through all the hard parts in one piece, and now you can relax. I do a few runs and bike rides just to loosen up and help heal any damage that occurred during the marathon.

I always feel I have a bit of a bounce in my step during recovery week.

Stella’s current chemo treatment is based on a three week cycle. She gets chemo on the first and second Monday. These two weeks she feels miserable.

BUT — On the third Monday, she gets to skip. That third week is her recovery week. It’s amazing the difference being off the chemo makes.

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It wasn’t my intention to write this post from the ER.

But that’s the situation. I hope by the time you read this we will be home safe and sound and today’s little adventure will be forgotten.

But let me back-up a few days.

On Friday I ran the Jerusalem Marathon. It was my third time running Jerusalem (which makes me three for three) and my eighth marathon overall. And it was my favorite.

These days, I can’t plan training seasons. I can’t commit to multi-month detailed plans that will culminate in a big race. I can’t do regular “speed workouts” with the club, and long runs are few and far between.

I run and bike when I can. I spend a lot of time on the treadmill. And stress eat my way through loads of junk food.

Not exactly a recipe for successful marathon racing.

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