This is really more of a journal for me, but I'm going to post the link to Facebook in the hope that it may preemptively field some of me having to explain how and why I didn't do the Cowtown today. And if you're anything like me, the opportunity to read someone else's journal is always fascinating (hence why I've already watched the entire season of The Mortified Guide on Netflix).
So all day (and weekend) long, I've been pretending it doesn't exist. I am staying off social media today and for the next few days (except when I post this link) because although I am happy for my friends who did the race, I can't handle all of the proud/excited/happy finisher posts just yet. I guess if I were succeeding in this strategy of denial, though, I wouldn't feel the need to write this post. Anyway.....
Before I go into a bunch of dramatic personal issues, I will say that my final decision not to run at all (no 10k, no 5k - 0 miles) was a groin injury. I pulled my groin last year and must have reinjured it running long distances without strengthening and stretching it enough because all last week the pain woke me up in the middle of the night. So that was the deciding factor. But all of other stuff I'm about to talk about are issues that came to the surface throughout the whole training process, particularly after it started to go south.
I have recently been struggling with some issues that I've dealt with for a long time, pretty much since I can remember. I won't go into deep detail on that here because this is so public, but if you've known me for a long time, you can probably guess what that is. This past week, I kind of reached a breaking point with that. I say this in relation to the Cowtown for a couple of reasons. First of all, the Cowtown had been causing me an immense amount of stress, and not just because it was my first half. This level of stress tends to trigger the issues.
Let me back up for a second. The stress I'm talking about has to do with the derailing of my training at the worst possible time. Right before Christmas, we had just started to really increase our mileage and were up to 10 miles the weekend right before Christmas. Well, I got the flu over Christmas and missed the 11 and 12 mile runs (not to mention the shorter runs we were supposed to do during the week). Then, when we came back, I felt discouraged and mentally checked out WHILE we were scrambling to make up for lost time. I felt more out of shape than I had when we started back in September. During the last training run I went to (13 miles), I spent basically the whole thing containing the meltdown that had been rising to the surface for weeks. I watched all these people passing me (and yes, I know it's not about anyone else but you try being the very last one) and felt worse and worse and then my coach suggested that maybe in the future if I wanted to be involved in the Cowtown I should volunteer or do the 10k -- and if you're reading this, I know you didn't mean it how I took it (it's not you, it's me) -- and that kind of crushed me. What was I doing? This clearly wasn't for me...
I know that's ridiculous. I know unfortunate things happened when my training had been going great. But if I really wanted to do it, really, and for the right reasons, I would've gotten over myself and gotten back on track. I think. I'm still processing it all, and part of me thinks I just took on too much my first year in a new job and I just reached a point where I needed everything to slow down. See? I told you. Word vomit.
Today, I started thinking about why I wanted to do the Cowtown in the first place. I was thinking about all of the stress and trepidation, and, well, plain dread that I felt leading up to it before I made the decision to back out. That got me thinking about how I used to feel before swim meets. It's eerily similar. I had a coach once take me aside to talk to me about how my performance in races didn't match the effort/dedication/level of training I showed in practice. Bottom line: Sarah chokes in (athletic) competition.
I kind of came to terms with this in swimming in my adult years. When I was still doing swim team, I flat out wouldn't participate when we did sets off the blocks simulating meets for "fun." It wasn't fun for me. Now, don't get me wrong; I love exercise. I love feeling powerful and strong and healthy. I love how much better I feel physically and mentally when I exercise regularly. I love the release. I just don't love trying to exercise better than other people.
So, why did I want to do the Cowtown? It wasn't that I wanted to be competitive in any way. But it brought back those old choking feelings because it was such a big deal. Because being around all of those fantastic runners all the time made me feel terrible about myself (and I know that has nothing to do with them and everything to do with me). Because the main thing I've learned is that I don't really like training that much.
See, I've always defined myself as a swimmer, an athlete. I'm not a natural athlete in any sense of the word, quite the opposite. But since I was a kid, I desperate wanted to be good at sports. And since I'm not good at sports, I kind of fell into a cycle of defining myself in a negative way: I'm the girl who does triathlons, competitive swimming, etc. But deep down, I know that I was last in my age group and I tell myself I don't care, but it sort of eats at me. Because that's how I define myself, and I'm not good. And then freshman year of high school, I lost a bunch of weight swimming at a time when body image was paramount. This began a dysfunctional line of thinking that continues to this day. If I'm not doing some kind of intense cardio workout regularly, I panic because obviously that means I'm going to get fat.
That coupled with the aforementioned issues-that-shall-not-be-named have dug me deep into an unhealthy relationship with food and with exercise. Even today at the gym, I was thinking about how I could do some more reps (outside of the workout I was doing on my Nike app) to burn more calories. But I stopped myself from going down that panicky, obsessive path because that is trip I've taken over and over again. It only leads to burnout, self-loathing, and general unhappiness.
I have to wonder if I got the idea of training for the Cowtown in my head because I thought such a high level of exercise would mean I didn't have to worry about diet and exercise; it would be covered. And again, I defined myself as an athlete. So obviously, I had to do a half marathon. If those were my reasons, then I didn't do it for the right reasons anyway.
I read an article about some actress I looked up to a few years ago (I don't remember who it was) who mentioned that these days, it's not enough to work out for yourself because you like it, you have to be out doing triathlons and running marathons. I've done triathlons and enjoyed them. But this quote resonated with me and I try to use it to remember that I am enough. Being health conscious and exercising for the above reasons I like it is enough. I don't have to prove anything to anybody. I'm trying really hard to get to the point where I believe and know that and don't have to repeat it to myself as I watch other people finish races and whatever.
I did enjoy a lot of the training process. I'm so happy I met the people in my training group. I'm glad I tried it so I know what it's like. I'm glad I do know that I CAN run 13 miles (we did it in a training run), but I don't necessarily want to.
As for the other stuff, coming to a breaking point (rock bottom?) at least gave me the opportunity to reset myself and decide to take steps toward a healthier approach. So for now, I am trying to just enjoy exercise, enjoy a healthy but not crazy way of eating, and just defining myself as Sarah who likes to exercise, cook, read, write, and travel, and is good at being a person. Period.
