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I refused to admit it, but I was in a midlife crisis. No, I didn’t buy a sports car or dye my hair. No, I started running, marathon running. 

To be honest, I truly believed I was running for health reasons. There are those benefits, and they feel great, but I needed more. 

I went through two boot camps. I went to war zones, responded to national emergencies, global catastrophes, and natural disasters. I don’t feel like I have anything to prove to anyone. Except me. 

During a national emergency I needed something that could help with my mental health. I was in a dark place. My therapist suggested walking or running, just getting out of my room and out of my head. 

Sure enough, the time spent running in the early morning felt like a reset. My thoughts were clear during the day. When I would get back from work, I’d take long walks. Two miles turned into three miles. Three miles became five. Before I knew it, I could run ten miles at a time. 

I felt like a real-life Forrest Gump, I just kept running. I set a goal to run a half marathon to start and learn a few things. After the half, train on those things and run the full. 

I did just that. I learned I did not drink nearly enough because I was dehydrated after the half marathon. So, I made sure I had more than enough to stay hydrated during the marathon.  

I felt very good about my marathon. My training runs were good. My diet was good. My friends and family were supportive. I was good to go. 

My time around thirteen miles was better than when I ran the half. I saw the leaders running past me on their way to the finish line. I knew if I could keep my pace, I would finish at around four hours. I felt great. 

My buddy who ran marathons before warned me about the wall, and how serious hitting the wall would be at around twenty miles in.  

This was no joke. I could see other people hitting the wall and stopping, walking, doubled over, and a few were crying. I hit the wall, and I became a walker. I ran until I couldn’t run anymore and then I’d walk. I’d drink a little and consume some fuel, and then run some more. Repeating as needed. 

I finished in just under five hours and twenty minutes. 

I was done, I set a goal, I achieved it, and now on to the next. 

Except, I learned a whole lot more during my marathon and if I take those lessons, I could shave an hour or more off my time. 

That is the midlife crisis for me. The need to prove my mental toughness by constantly evaluating my performance. How am I doing in life? Where can I adjust? Where can I improve? 

I’m running to find those answers.