I don’t really do “race recap” posts. I guess looking at the last time I actually hit the “publish” button, a case could be made that I don’t really do posts at all! I’ll address that point first (and I feel a bit meandering today, so I will try to stay concise!)
I have always been a writer. It is commonly thought that writers should write something – anything – everyday. I started blogging in 2006. The one constant in blogging is the idea of regular postings. In many cases I saw the “write something everyday” and the “regular postings” ideas collide…and by “collide,” think “train wreck.”
So early on I just got comfortable with gaps in my blog. I don’t love it because it
usually means there is something happening on this side of the keyboard that has the balance in my life thrown off. But I don’t hate it either. It just is what it is. The goal is always to make adjustments and keep it out of the ditch.
Since my last post roughly 2 months(!) ago, I have run in three ultra events, wrestled with my supplementation, jacked up my food choices, and wrecked my schedule. I had a million blog post ideas go through my brain. But my center was in the stratosphere somewhere and that just doesn’t work.
Even now I struggle to stay on point and offer you a coherent discourse. (In fact, I just deleted FOUR whole paragraphs. You’re welcome.)
I bagged out of Bad Marsh. It was really unfortunate. I had a great crew in the beautiful Brandy Mai. The group of runners there were amazing and inspiring. There was cold beer in the cooler. The race hat swag was awesome. It should have been perfect. It sucked.
Parking, I thought seeing my ultra family would help my melancholy mood. It didn’t. Not even the duck.
Lap 1, “just run for a minute, you’ll feel better,” I thought. Wrong again.
Lap 2, I was looking for a reason to quit.
Lap 3, I committed the ultimate fail – I bagged on my best runner buddy ever.
Lap 4, I tried one more time. I questioned my entire existence as a runner, as a person even. Sounds a bit melodramatic, I know. But it is what it is.
I quit. Sure there was this facade of ankle pain (it really did hurt) and “living to fight another day” and all that. Truth is, I have hurt worse and have ran through pain. But that day, that race, that moment, running sucked, I sucked, life sucked, and I just plain didn’t want to be there or do that.
Worse than the DNF, I couldn’t find it in me to stay and support my ultra family. I was wiped and my soul was somewhere else. To this day I am not really sure where that is. To be honest, I have still only caught fleeting moments of it in the past 2 months. If I am being completely transparent, it has been as elusive as Peter Pan’s shadow.
But there are some solid truths…
And when all else fails, listen to folks smarter than you…
“For me, the larger ‘hurt’ factor during an Ultra is when my body is physically ready for a race but my mind is mentally not in it. In that case there is almost nothing you can do other than take a break, rub some dirt on your soul and hope that your mind can come around,” ~ Tim Waz, Owner/RD, Lowcountry Ultras.
Photo credit **Simple Reminders**