"Weren't you supposed to graduate?"

In 2016 I ran my first full marathon. I trained for about a year and developed some persistent injuries as I increased my distance (shin splints and other pains I can't accurately identify). I ran the race injured. I also pushed myself to finish in 5 hours 30 minutes, because that was the race cut-off, even though my training had better prepared me to finish in 6 hours or longer. I couldn't stand the thought of training for a year and then getting timed out. I finished one step ahead of the sweeper (who marked the cut-off), and celebrated this feat of mind-over-matter while being so injured I could't run at all for more than six weeks afterwards. I couldn't do elliptical. I couldn't even do yoga. I forced my body to do something amazing, but at a cost.

I ended up taking a year off of long distance running (my longest race that year was 8 miles) and then began training for my second marathon. I committed to running injury free. I started wearing those goofy shin sleeves to prevent shin splints (they work). I learned which minor pains will get better with stretches and other treatments and which actually require time off running. I signed up for a marathon this spring with a 7 hour cut off. Because I didn't have to push myself to finish in an impossible time, I assumed I would roll in after a comfortable 6 hours. I did it in 5, without really trying. I was sore, but not injured, and went on another run later that same week. It turns out I can be amazing without breaking myself in the process.

Although the faculty here often claim that graduating with a PhD in four years is both possible and desirable, I have observed that it rarely happens (in my program). I decided it would happen for me. In the two years since I completed course work, I have moved myself toward this goal in much the same way as I trained for my first marathon, viewing some level of unkindness to myself as an acceptable cost, while trying to keep an impossible pace. Had I graduated this spring, I believe I would have been similarly satisfied in my accomplishment but also similarly broken.

Unfortunately, it is not due to a desire to be kind to myself that I didn't graduate this spring. Left to my own devices, I totally would have run injured and stumbled across the finish right ahead of the sweeper. I just didn't find a job for next school year (not for lack of trying). Remaining a student for another year was an option for me, and, I think, the most financially responsible option. So I took it. Happily, this means that next spring I have a chance to graduate like the me that ran the second marathon: strong.