Tuesday, July 2, 2019

Bete Noire


"So I'll meet you at the bottom if there really is oneThey always told me when you hit it you'll know it. But I've been falling so long it's like gravity's gone and I'm just floating"  - Gravity's Gone, Drive-By Truckers






On the verge of my dream race and I was a mess. I hadn't finished a race since Bigfoot 200 in August. I was running less and less. It felt like the burn out was slowly building to this moment. Somehow I made it through 300 miles of the Iditarod Trail and achieved a huge goal, but my sense of accomplishment and satisfaction was almost nil. 
This is where things are for right now. All my mistakes and all my successes have led to this point, which, for now, is not very pleasant. The things I used to enjoy, I don't so much. The running and racing that gave me goals to reach for and a social outlet, was now frustrating and unfulfilling. I've been careful to not wrap too much into racing, knowing one day it could (will) be gone. There are plenty of activities and hobbies to keep me busy the rest of my life. The problem is that I'm not that interested in doing much of anything at the moment. 
Skipping daily runs eventually snowballed into not running at all. I've tried being part of a running group, which has provided a fun group to be around and helped get me out to run when I wouldn't otherwise. My participation there has also plummeted and I feel guilty about that on top of not running.  
I signed up for several 100 mile races this year. Four to be exact. I've been holding out hope that things would turn around and maybe I could scrape up enough training to get by in at least one or two of them. Part of this post is me finally admitting to myself that I won't be running any of them. In the recent past I would have just tried gutting them out but I know that no amount of pushing will get me through in my current physical condition.  
On top of getting myself out of shape, suddenly the injuries that must have been just below the surface have appeared. My foot hurts with each step as I walk. Even if I wanted to run now, I would have to stop to help healing. This adds to the frustration.  
So now months after finishing my dream race, I'm deciding to call the rest of this year off. I need to find a way to start over and build my way back. I still have goals I want to attempt but sometimes I feel like time is slipping away. That's just the nature of getting older, I suppose. 
Anyway, I'm working to get back to run the winter races I enjoy so much. I'm trying to find that motivation and excitement that were there before. Maybe that's a mistake. Maybe not. I will find out. If the journey is what it is about then this should be an interesting one. I can't wait to see where we end up. 



I'm sure I'm not the only one who has had the expectation that finishing something very difficult would result in most, if not all my problems being solved. Even knowing this expectation is ridiculous, part of me still clings to it, desperately, looking for some answer, somewhere. I've been to enough finish lines to know that there is a moment of relief that the hard part is over but life still moves at its pace with no regard for what you've done or what you want.