2013 has been a string of ups and downs - with running, with work, with life, and it's been hard for me to find my way. Running was something I could always turn to when I needed an outlet, and for many years I was able to find great fulfillment in PR's, good race times and grandiose adventures that most people thought were crazy. But the problem became that I was always looking for bigger and better. It became an endless cycle, and while I believe it's good to have goals, you also have to be prepared for (and be able to accept) failure.
I had big plans for 2013 - marathon PR's, a sub-19 5k, you name it. None of these things happened. And, it left me with feelings of inadequacy and an increasing level of dissatisfaction and apathy towards running.
Success breeds desire, after all. But what really defines success? I have to keep asking myself that. Sure, I have an armload of finisher’s medals that I am super proud of and I’ve reached many of the goals I set out for myself a few years ago. But is that what defines success? Is the point of all this running to beat your body in to the ground seeking PRs every race and longer and longer distances until the end of time? Or is it realizing your limitations, being okay with what they are and adjusting your running schedule accordingly?
I realized I am an all or nothing runner. I run my body to the point of exhaustion or collapse because I can’t shut off my brain. The endorphins are powerful and the feeling of accomplishment is hard to achieve anywhere else. But truth be told, running wasn't making me happy for quite awhile throughout this year. So, I took a break and dumped my training plans. Life is too short and too good to spend doing something that doesn’t make you happy, just because you feel the pressure (self-imposed or otherwise) to do it.
I was signed up to run the Baltimore Marathon in October. I didn't train for it, but still planned to run it. Until the morning of the race, when I changed my mind. I ran the half marathon instead. Slowly. Without a watch. Without my timing chip. I lined up near the back, in the last corral, and experienced the race from a totally different perspective than I ever had before. I enjoyed the sights. I enjoyed the people - most of whom didn't give a rat's ass what their finishing time was, they were just out there to finish a half-marathon. That was the accomplishment, not the time on the clock. I admired their laid back attitude, and remembered, I was once like that. They reminded me why I started running in the first place.
I came back from the trip feeling refreshed but still not motivated to train. I had the Rock & Roll San Antonio Marathon coming up only a few weeks later and waffled back and forth on whether or not I would just switch to the half or sit out all together. This race was a particularly tough one for me to wrap my head around because I did so well there last year that I knew anything short of that would be a disappointment, and well, since I had yet to do a single long run over 14 miles (and only two of those...yikes) I was pretty certain this would be my worst San Antonio marathon yet. I was scared of embarrassing myself, I was scared of whatever everyone else would think, I was scared of failing.
In the end, I decided to run San Antonio (which was this past Sunday). My decision came down to just a matter of keeping my goals and expectations aligned with what I could realistically accomplish and not letting my ego or what other people think I should be doing get in the way. I didn't wear a watch, I didn't have a plan. In true San Antonio fashion, we had horrible weather. Record high temps this year with 100% humidity. I mentioned in my Facebook status before the race started, I felt like I was going to be running on a wing and a prayer.
I surprised myself finishing among the top 10 women with a 3:24 on a tough day for everyone. Certainly not one of my fastest times, but one of my most proud. I am so glad I got out there and didn't let pride or fear of a "bad" finish time get in my way. Sunday reunited a spark in me as it helped me remember how much I truly love running marathons. I may still have a PR left in these legs, I may not. But I am not going to let that deter me from trying. I will not be afraid to fail. And, if I fail, if my best races are behind me, then that's okay too. I will accept it and continue to be thankful for the gift of running.
I saw the following post on Facebook, and I couldn't agree more:
*Races are experiences. Embracing those things, the high fives with kids, the music, the spectators, the volunteers, the spectators, just makes the race that much more rich.
*Running is a gift. Don't take it for granted. I'm potentially looking at a second surgery on a running injury and having to be honest that I may be hanging the shoes up soon. I love this sport. It's been so good to me. If you're healthy, soak it in.
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| San Antonio Rock & Rock Marathon |
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| A friend I made along the way. We ran together from miles 7-12, until he turned off for the half. |
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| Pre-race dinner with friends |
| Sadly you missed our post-race karaoke rendition of piano man...so sorry for you. |






















