Until Today
"For me, the greater shame would have been in not trying. Failing and learning from that failure are far easier to overcome. At least for me."
~ Stacee Ann Harris, on the first DNF of her running career
Writing is always a good exercise for me. At times, it's a celebration; at others, it brings light to the darkness. Today, unfortunately, it's the latter. I need some perspective; better said I need to find some perspective. If I don't, if I continue to wallow chest deep in the woulda-shoulda-couldas, I'll never learn, never re-frame the experience. And chances are I'll never get past it. Well, at least not anytime soon. So here I am in my office and preparing to write yet another blog about running. And life. Because try as I might I can never seem to tease the two apart.
This morning, I ran the first half of the Austin Marathon Half Marathon. Yes, just the first half. Somewhere between Miles 5 and 6, the calf injury I experienced last week (while running a truly awesome running tour Grand Rapids, Michigan - www.grandrapidsrunningtours.com) and really hoped I'd gotten over reappeared. I know the course well and I knew that the 10k mark was the point of no return. Stop after crossing the 1st Avenue Bridge and I'd be a short hobble to the car. Keep going and the hobble would only get longer. When I discovered that I had absolutely zero push off coming up the hill to the bridge, my decision was made. Hit the 10k, duck through the crowd, turn off the watch, and be done for the day.
When the results come out, there will be a DNF next to my name. Did Not Finish. The first of my running career. In other words, in racing, I've never not finished what I've started. Until today. I'm a delightful mixture of sad and pissed. I have questions running through my head that I can't answer.
Could I have kept going..? What if I would have kept going...? Should I have kept going...?
I did in my last race. I suffered through a cramped hamstring and ran a five minute PR. Why didn't I do that today? Why didn't I suck it up and just fucking run? Was the pain that bad? Was the risk of further injury that bad?
I have to answer that last question yes. I do. Was I merely hurt (like a month ago at the 3M) or was I injured? I've been involved in sport nearly my entire life. I've played tennis, softball, and basketball and run competitively. I know the difference between being hurt and injured. I like to tell the stories about how I gutted out the last ten miles of a marathon with a stress fracture in my tibia when every step felt like a jabbing knife into my leg and how I played a tennis match with a severely damaged tendon in my right arm, an injury so painful the impact of the ball on the strings caused me to drop my racket. Hindsight being 20/20, I was injured and never should have finished that race (even though I was winning) or played that match. In both cases, I ended up taking significant time off to heal. Would I have needed as much time off if I'd stopped? We can never know for sure, but it's a pretty safe assumption.
Back to this morning, was I hurt or injured? The pain was pretty bad and the knot in my calf seemed to tighten with every step. At what point might I have reached a breaking point? Or a tearing point? Might I have endured - simply to endure, simply to avoid my first DNF - and ended up with a more severe injury? I have to assume - HAVE TO - that I would have otherwise I'd be even more depressed than I am right now.
In thirty-four days, I leave for my spring run-cation, two weeks of running in Denmark, Sweden and Croatia. That means I have a roughly a month to fix whatever this is and get back into some semblance of running shape. As it stands, I'm injured. I'm not INJURED. Nothing is torn, ripped, nor do I have anything that requires surgery. With persistent care and focused training, I should be able to fully enjoy my vacation. On foot. Perhaps I'm rationalizing here, but if hadn't taken the DNF today I might not be able to say that.
Look, it's what I have to keep telling myself. Yes, I failed today. I didn't finish a race, and not just any race. The Austin Half Marathon is the apex of my half marathon season. It's the course I have nightmares about and dreams of conquering. Now, it is the site of the biggest failure of my running career.
Sage non-running advice said I shouldn't have run today. Stay home. Skip it. Live to run another day. I couldn't bring myself to do that. I'm a runner, an athlete. I'm almost always a little hurt, a little injured, just rarely enough to stop me. Plus, my leg felt good this morning. From the first step of my warm up right up until the fifth mile. If I hadn't tried I'd never know. Now I know and, yes, I'm devastated and sad and angry but.........
It's a learning experience. Yeah, I tweaked my calf last weekend running on ice and snow in 16F weather. Maybe I shouldn't have done that. And maybe I shouldn't have run the next day in much the same conditions. And if I could sit here and honestly tell you that it was a freak thing - that the snow, ice, and cold weakened my calf and caused the tweaking - I probably wouldn't be as mad at myself. Let's get one thing straight - I'm not mad at myself because I got injured or because I didn't finish a race. I'm mad because my preparation and training sucked. I'm not talking about variables outside my control. Nope. This 100% on me. Every. Single. Last. Bit. Of. It.
I ran a spectacular race a month ago. On training that was slipping and sliding toward the lackadaisical and lackluster. The new job. More hours at work. The holidays. Another "hat" to wear at work. Even more hours. Minimal sleep. A social life. Stress eating. I thought November sucked until I got to December. Then I thought December sucked until I got to January. Somehow I pulled off monster PR at the 3M in mid-January. Then the sucking hit an all-time high at the end of January and crashed right into another major suck-fest in February. My one and only long run between Christmas and today was the 3M. No gym. No climbing. Two weeks of skipped workouts and week after week of sloppy eating. I toed the line this morning feeling chubby (I know, I know. What's a couple pounds? I'm too skinny anyway, right? Grab a backpack and a couple bricks. Let's go for a run.) and poorly trained. Mentally, I was decent, but far from superlative. I was hopeful it would all come together like it did at the 3M. That morning I felt a little chubby and a little under-trained, too. Little did I know it could actually get worse...
That's the situation. And all of it was (IS) my fault. Poor time management. Poor work-life-sport balance. In a nutshell? Poorly set priorities. I failed today because I've been failing for months. That stops today. I know what I need to do. Re-focus. Re-prioritize. If I'm going to continue to set my fitness goals at a high level, I have to put training above everything except work. That said, I need to make my work schedule (since I essentially get to make my own schedule) fit my training. And I need to get back to the way of eating that I know benefits my training the most. Lower carbs, including excessively minimal simple sugars, and higher protein. And I need to get my brain wrapped around all of it.
What about the calf? It cannot be an afterthought like it was all last week. I should have done somthing and yet I repeatedly did nothing. That was an errant luxury I can no longer indulge in. Thirty-four days from now, I have to be ready. That's not much time. Stretching, rolling, massage, heat, ice, ibuprofen. I'm hoping that with a little TLC, it'll be back to good in no time.
I'll let myself wallow in disappointment and anger for a little longer this afternoon, then I'll let it go. I need to feel this fully or I'll lose the lesson and chance repeating the folly. What drives me? Knowing I can be better. Knowing I am better. I'm not sloppy and lackadaisical. I'm focused and driven. Above all, I finish what I start.
I chose the Deena Kastor quote below this morning to give myself something to hang onto when the going got tough during the race. I had no idea just how appropriate it would become...
"This is where the growth begins, find the thoughts to rise to the challenge."
Y'all know my running blogs always include two things - a Deena Kastor quote and a life lesson.
Kastor Quote - Check.
Here comes the life lesson. Alright. I know it's trite. Making sunshine out of shit. Lemonade out of lemons. But seriously...SERIOUSLY. I have learned more from failure than success. Obviously, right? I ran a five minute PR and proceeded to blow big fat training chunks for a month. And moreover (Committed that bit of redundancy on purpose, FYI) I ended up injured. It remains to be seen if I can turn today's disappointment - today's FAILURE - into a positive. However, if I know myself (and I think I do pretty well after nearly 50 years), I will end up stronger, better, and more focused than ever.
Beauty can come from ashes. Trust me, it can. I see it every time I look in the mirror.
~ Stacee Ann Harris, on the first DNF of her running career
Writing is always a good exercise for me. At times, it's a celebration; at others, it brings light to the darkness. Today, unfortunately, it's the latter. I need some perspective; better said I need to find some perspective. If I don't, if I continue to wallow chest deep in the woulda-shoulda-couldas, I'll never learn, never re-frame the experience. And chances are I'll never get past it. Well, at least not anytime soon. So here I am in my office and preparing to write yet another blog about running. And life. Because try as I might I can never seem to tease the two apart.
This morning, I ran the first half of the Austin Marathon Half Marathon. Yes, just the first half. Somewhere between Miles 5 and 6, the calf injury I experienced last week (while running a truly awesome running tour Grand Rapids, Michigan - www.grandrapidsrunningtours.com) and really hoped I'd gotten over reappeared. I know the course well and I knew that the 10k mark was the point of no return. Stop after crossing the 1st Avenue Bridge and I'd be a short hobble to the car. Keep going and the hobble would only get longer. When I discovered that I had absolutely zero push off coming up the hill to the bridge, my decision was made. Hit the 10k, duck through the crowd, turn off the watch, and be done for the day.
When the results come out, there will be a DNF next to my name. Did Not Finish. The first of my running career. In other words, in racing, I've never not finished what I've started. Until today. I'm a delightful mixture of sad and pissed. I have questions running through my head that I can't answer.
Could I have kept going..? What if I would have kept going...? Should I have kept going...?
I did in my last race. I suffered through a cramped hamstring and ran a five minute PR. Why didn't I do that today? Why didn't I suck it up and just fucking run? Was the pain that bad? Was the risk of further injury that bad?
I have to answer that last question yes. I do. Was I merely hurt (like a month ago at the 3M) or was I injured? I've been involved in sport nearly my entire life. I've played tennis, softball, and basketball and run competitively. I know the difference between being hurt and injured. I like to tell the stories about how I gutted out the last ten miles of a marathon with a stress fracture in my tibia when every step felt like a jabbing knife into my leg and how I played a tennis match with a severely damaged tendon in my right arm, an injury so painful the impact of the ball on the strings caused me to drop my racket. Hindsight being 20/20, I was injured and never should have finished that race (even though I was winning) or played that match. In both cases, I ended up taking significant time off to heal. Would I have needed as much time off if I'd stopped? We can never know for sure, but it's a pretty safe assumption.
Back to this morning, was I hurt or injured? The pain was pretty bad and the knot in my calf seemed to tighten with every step. At what point might I have reached a breaking point? Or a tearing point? Might I have endured - simply to endure, simply to avoid my first DNF - and ended up with a more severe injury? I have to assume - HAVE TO - that I would have otherwise I'd be even more depressed than I am right now.
In thirty-four days, I leave for my spring run-cation, two weeks of running in Denmark, Sweden and Croatia. That means I have a roughly a month to fix whatever this is and get back into some semblance of running shape. As it stands, I'm injured. I'm not INJURED. Nothing is torn, ripped, nor do I have anything that requires surgery. With persistent care and focused training, I should be able to fully enjoy my vacation. On foot. Perhaps I'm rationalizing here, but if hadn't taken the DNF today I might not be able to say that.
Look, it's what I have to keep telling myself. Yes, I failed today. I didn't finish a race, and not just any race. The Austin Half Marathon is the apex of my half marathon season. It's the course I have nightmares about and dreams of conquering. Now, it is the site of the biggest failure of my running career.
Sage non-running advice said I shouldn't have run today. Stay home. Skip it. Live to run another day. I couldn't bring myself to do that. I'm a runner, an athlete. I'm almost always a little hurt, a little injured, just rarely enough to stop me. Plus, my leg felt good this morning. From the first step of my warm up right up until the fifth mile. If I hadn't tried I'd never know. Now I know and, yes, I'm devastated and sad and angry but.........
It's a learning experience. Yeah, I tweaked my calf last weekend running on ice and snow in 16F weather. Maybe I shouldn't have done that. And maybe I shouldn't have run the next day in much the same conditions. And if I could sit here and honestly tell you that it was a freak thing - that the snow, ice, and cold weakened my calf and caused the tweaking - I probably wouldn't be as mad at myself. Let's get one thing straight - I'm not mad at myself because I got injured or because I didn't finish a race. I'm mad because my preparation and training sucked. I'm not talking about variables outside my control. Nope. This 100% on me. Every. Single. Last. Bit. Of. It.
I ran a spectacular race a month ago. On training that was slipping and sliding toward the lackadaisical and lackluster. The new job. More hours at work. The holidays. Another "hat" to wear at work. Even more hours. Minimal sleep. A social life. Stress eating. I thought November sucked until I got to December. Then I thought December sucked until I got to January. Somehow I pulled off monster PR at the 3M in mid-January. Then the sucking hit an all-time high at the end of January and crashed right into another major suck-fest in February. My one and only long run between Christmas and today was the 3M. No gym. No climbing. Two weeks of skipped workouts and week after week of sloppy eating. I toed the line this morning feeling chubby (I know, I know. What's a couple pounds? I'm too skinny anyway, right? Grab a backpack and a couple bricks. Let's go for a run.) and poorly trained. Mentally, I was decent, but far from superlative. I was hopeful it would all come together like it did at the 3M. That morning I felt a little chubby and a little under-trained, too. Little did I know it could actually get worse...
That's the situation. And all of it was (IS) my fault. Poor time management. Poor work-life-sport balance. In a nutshell? Poorly set priorities. I failed today because I've been failing for months. That stops today. I know what I need to do. Re-focus. Re-prioritize. If I'm going to continue to set my fitness goals at a high level, I have to put training above everything except work. That said, I need to make my work schedule (since I essentially get to make my own schedule) fit my training. And I need to get back to the way of eating that I know benefits my training the most. Lower carbs, including excessively minimal simple sugars, and higher protein. And I need to get my brain wrapped around all of it.
What about the calf? It cannot be an afterthought like it was all last week. I should have done somthing and yet I repeatedly did nothing. That was an errant luxury I can no longer indulge in. Thirty-four days from now, I have to be ready. That's not much time. Stretching, rolling, massage, heat, ice, ibuprofen. I'm hoping that with a little TLC, it'll be back to good in no time.
I'll let myself wallow in disappointment and anger for a little longer this afternoon, then I'll let it go. I need to feel this fully or I'll lose the lesson and chance repeating the folly. What drives me? Knowing I can be better. Knowing I am better. I'm not sloppy and lackadaisical. I'm focused and driven. Above all, I finish what I start.
I chose the Deena Kastor quote below this morning to give myself something to hang onto when the going got tough during the race. I had no idea just how appropriate it would become...
"This is where the growth begins, find the thoughts to rise to the challenge."
Y'all know my running blogs always include two things - a Deena Kastor quote and a life lesson.
Kastor Quote - Check.
Here comes the life lesson. Alright. I know it's trite. Making sunshine out of shit. Lemonade out of lemons. But seriously...SERIOUSLY. I have learned more from failure than success. Obviously, right? I ran a five minute PR and proceeded to blow big fat training chunks for a month. And moreover (Committed that bit of redundancy on purpose, FYI) I ended up injured. It remains to be seen if I can turn today's disappointment - today's FAILURE - into a positive. However, if I know myself (and I think I do pretty well after nearly 50 years), I will end up stronger, better, and more focused than ever.
Beauty can come from ashes. Trust me, it can. I see it every time I look in the mirror.
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