I Hated My Wife at Kilometer 25

Co-authored by Galit Romanelli

2.20.19.

The night before the Tel Aviv Marathon, my wife and I had a huge fight.

She felt I was irresponsible, that I was sticking too many things together and I would be exhausted and not present for the weekend with the kids before going away on a business trip. I felt like suddenly, the day before the marathon, she was changing our arrangement. She was doing a big drama. She was unappreciative of all the effort and training I had done.

We moved between talking and not talking, between being insulted and hurting each other.

She asked me to cancel the marathon. I told her no. I said, Galit, this marathon is more important to me right now than your request. I was feeling very differentiated at the time. That only blew up in my face.

She moved between moving on, being upset, being disappointed. Back and forth. Back and forth.

We woke up at 4:30 in the morning and I drove to the race. In that drive I felt so alone. There was silence. We listened to the radio, 4:30 in the morning, driving to this marathon. Galit was scheduled to run a 10k and I was supposed to run a full marathon. Even until the end we were still not really together. When we reached the parking lot she loosened up a little, became a little playful, a bit flirty. I was closed. I was just not there.

And away I went.

Kilometer 1: Feeling Sorry for Myself

As I started running I realized that all I could think about was how alone I felt. I was moving between feeling sorry for myself and being angry at my wife. Feeling sorry for myself and being angry. Over and over. I didn’t know what to do about it. And then I was frustrated that I was stuck, that I couldn’t enjoy this marathon, that all I could think about was my relationship. Stuck. Stuck. Stuck.

Until I realized: my life is a marathon. Relationships are a marathon.

Kilometer 21: The Only Way Around Is Through

What I realized is that I wasn’t letting everything through. I was trying to regulate. I was locked up. Like a lot of times in improvisation, I see actors on stage and they’re pretending to fight but they get locked in the energy. In real life we go through all kinds of emotions, and only when you go through the extreme of anger do you reach the next level, which could be laughter or helplessness. But you have to go through all of them. You have to really allow yourself to express them and feel them all the way to the edges.

In couples therapy we talk about thunderstorms and turtles. Thunderstorms are people who, when they get angry, get angry completely, from head to toe. Contrary to them there are turtles. The second it gets hot, they stick their head back in. My wife is a thunderstorm. I’m a turtle.

In EMDR, eye movement desensitization and reprocessing, we talk about bilateral stimulation of the brain. That is basically what happens when you run. Right, left, right, left. Your legs and your hands keep triggering and activating both hemispheres, which actually makes you unstuck. Because you are moving. Because you are in movement.

At kilometer 21, I let it go. I went through both extremes. The victim. The persecutor. All of it. The only way around is through.

Kilometer 25: I Really Hate You. And I Really Love You.

Somewhere around kilometer 25, a new realization started coming up. I was realizing that I really hate you, Galit. I really do. But I also really love you. And I can only love you if I hate you, and I hate you if I love you. The person that loves me so much can also hurt me so much. You know exactly where to push. You’re killing me softly. But you’re also freeing me.

I’ve said it a zillion times to a zillion people. You only hurt the ones you love. The opposite of love isn’t hate. It’s apathy. Hate and love are two sides of the same thing.

Only when I allowed myself to completely feel the hate did my heart suddenly open. It opened from the depth of hate, from the depth of despair. She can hurt me so deeply only because she knows me so intimately. Because she knows all the little twists and turns of my heart, my mind, my body, my soul. The fact that she knows me that intimately means she can hurt me that hard. Not because she’s evil. Also because we all have what is called normal marital sadism. We’re all a little bit sadistic. But also unintentionally, by just being there. By being a different person who dares to live next to me. Who dares to challenge me. Who dares to say something different than what I think. Who dares to have her own opinion. Who dares to defy my requests. Who dares to project her stuff onto me. How dare she be herself. How dare she demand that I be a separate human being.

I was moving between laughing and a little bit of crying.

Kilometer 32: The Wall

And then I hit the wall at kilometer 32.

The wall is the hardest part of the marathon. You have nothing left. You just want to start walking or stopping. And this is the metaphor for that part in a relationship where you just give up and you feel helpless. You’re thinking: I’m better off alone. Let’s split up. Let’s not spend the weekend together because I can’t deal with you. This is the darkest hour before the dawn.

You should go through the wall. Allow yourself to feel it. Keep walking. On the other side there is going to be clarity.

What most couples do is stop at the wall. That’s when we make these dramatic decisions. We slam the door. We go sleep at our parents’ house. More dramatic: we blow up negotiations, we decide to get a divorce. We hit the wall and act like it’s permanent.

But in the marathon you have no other option. If you quit when you hit the wall you will never finish. You will never know what is on the other side.

This was my second marathon. I knew the wall would end. It might end at kilometer 42. But it was going to end. And I think hitting that rock bottom, going through the process of going to the extremes of emotion, hitting that wall and seeing there is no other way except quitting, all that together really comes through in the marathon.

Kilometer 35: Am I Going to Quit?

I’m still in the wall. And now I’m asking myself: am I going to quit? Am I going to quit this relationship? Am I going to quit my growth? I’ve come so far. I’ve tried so many things, met so many people. I’m not going to quit. And I knew I wasn’t, because I knew I was growing.

By allowing myself to actually contemplate giving up, to visualize what it would really look like if I stopped the race, I was able to answer the question.

And there was something else. There were young children all along the marathon. Every time I saw a child I would high-five them, imagining those were my kids. At that wall, every time I saw a bunch of kids cheering I yelled: I need energy, give me high-fives, give me high-fives. And I had this realization that our kids are perhaps the ones cheering us on on this journey. They are the ones giving us energy. They believe we are not stuck in our ways. They can imagine a future. They are blowing their whistles and clapping and cheering and giving us high-fives and saying: you can do this, you got this, don’t stop, don’t give up.

Kilometer 40: Smelling the End

At kilometer 40, a blister on my little toe finally burst, waking me up to a sharp pain in my right foot, together with my ankle. Complete exhaustion. I was feeling my knees. I was feeling the sensation of being alive. And I could smell the end.

Slowly, slowly it started coming together. Even though the pain didn’t go away, even though I was still in the wall, I could see the end. Literally. Emotionally. Physically.

Last 200 Meters: How Will I Finish?

Last 200 meters. The question arrived: how am I going to end this race? Will I forgive her? Will I thank her for daring to love me? Will I punish her for hating me and loving me at the same time? Will I punish her for a lifetime together?

And then I just went for it. Everything came together at that point. The exhaustion, the anger, the anguish, the victory, the realizations, the learnings, the audience, the crowd, the adrenaline. It all crashed together as I rushed toward the end. It was clear to me that when I saw her I was going to tell her everything that happened.

After the Race

When Galit and I sat down afterward to eat and rest, we were both very, very happy that the whole incident had happened. We were happy because we went through hell and back. We went through a whole marathon of feelings. And really, the only way around is through.

If you want to grow and succeed in the game of intimacy and relationships, you are going to have to go through everything. Surrender to the pain. Surrender to both extremes, the victim and the persecutor. Allow yourself to really hate and really love your partner. Hit the wall. Know that it is going to end. Know that there is going to be something on the other side. And dare to forgive the people around you, the people who love you, for wanting more. More of you. More of them. More of the relationship.

You might end up a bit sore. You won’t be able to walk for a few days.

But the satisfaction you feel will not only last a lifetime. It will be your relational legacy for your kids.

Watch the full video from the Tel Aviv Marathon here:

Galit Romanelli is a relationship coach, Ph.D. candidate, and co-director of The Potential State.