The type that took what someone said about me so far to heart that it prevented me from pursuing my goals. The type that allowed those thoughts to become captive and completely consume me to the point of giving up everything I’d ever desired; but that’s almost what happened.
My last post was from April of 2016. It was written after I had run the Boston Marathon (a life-long dream of mine). And as much as I had hoped, wished and prayed for the idyllic and blissful Boston experience most people rave about, the kind you see in Runner’s World, mine wasn’t like that at all and it had nothing to do with the race itself. It had everything to do with a battle raging in my own mind. A battle that had ignited from the back-handed comments of a fellow runner. The words itself don’t even matter at this point; it was how they made me feel. And it was enough to make me doubt everything I had ever worked for, everything I had achieved and everything I was hoping to pursue.
For a couple of months post-Boston I didn’t want to run. The thought of lacing up, even for a couple of miles, even with a training partner, made me want to curl up in a ball and cry.
I’ve never been that girl.
But there I was. I tried to make it seem like everything was as before. I told myself I’d continue my goal of pursuing a marathon on every continent. I wanted to still want it; with every part of my being. But it would have required for me to run. And I just couldn’t.
Thankfully, I have a training partner that knows me inside and out. She knew me enough at the time to know I was struggling; even if others didn’t see it. She didn’t push me. She didn’t grow bitter when I bailed on a run. She was patient. She was kind. She listened. And when the time was right, she spoke truth into my soul. She empowered me. And she made me believe that there was more ahead. So much more.
For thirteen years I had poured myself into running. It was what drove me every morning my feet hit the floor. And here I was, at the crossroads of wanting to give it up entirely. After some heart-felt conversations, encouragement from my training partner and prayerful consideration, I decided to give it one more shot. I told myself, if this race went well, I’d continue on. If it didn’t, I’d walk away from the sport entirely.
August 20, 2016, I toed the starting line of the Run With The Horses Marathon in Green River, Wyoming with my sister who was running the Half Marathon. I chose a marathon on the other side of the country because I couldn’t face the thought of competing in my own city. In a place where my performance could easily be judged.
I’ve never been that girl.
I had zero expectations that morning. The only thing I wanted was one last run. No matter how the race went, I wanted to be able to walk away with complete and utter peace about my decision. It was a daunting 13.1 miles up a canyon, with no one around but runners and wild horses and 13.1 miles back down. I was alone with only my thoughts for most of the race. And it was then that I was reminded of why I loved running so much. Never once was it about competition or having every race be a PR. Running for me was always about the challenge. It was about completing something I never thought I could do.
Finally, I crossed the finish line. It was then that I had the courage to fight that little voice inside my head. It was then that I faced my own shadow and it was then that I took the back-handed comments of a fellow runner and proved them wrong. I not only finished the Run With The Horses Marathon but I was the female winner and third overall.
I believe time heals all wounds. But, it didn’t have to be that way.
I allowed one individual to get under my skin. I allowed the views and opinions they had of me to completely de-rail my pursuits, my thoughts and my emotions. I can look back now with clarity; void of bitterness and anger. I should have quickly dismissed those comments from my mind. I should have emptied my life of the negativity. But that’s not what happened. And I wouldn’t be where I am now had I done so.
I didn’t walk away from running. In fact, I decided I needed another challenge in my life which is why I turned to triathlons, but I’m a runner, first and foremost. My goal is still to complete a marathon on every continent. With life, the balancing act that it is, that goal may take me decades to accomplish, but I will achieve it because running in and of itself is a journey. The harmony between it’s struggles and victories make it one of the greatest metaphors for life.
A struggle is what I faced and it took me a year to put into words but I can finally say, I’ve overcome it, I’m stronger because of it and I’m thankful for the lessons learned; in the canyon.
It is only when you are in the valley that you can see the grandeur of the mountain.
