The emotional roller coaster of fitness
I last left you amid a plot twist in my marathon journey. A torn labrum in my hip that shut me down from running just nine weeks from race day. It’s an injury that put the race in jeopardy, but thankfully, one that I was able to get treatment for since my last post. The MRI came back as expected, and the good news came when my doctor gave me a cortisone shot to treat it and said I can carefully return to running 48-hours later. So, after 17 days off – and all the emotions that came with being unable to run – I’m back.
As I sat down to write the update on my marathon journey, the space I was in as I reflected on these past few weeks was filled with highs and lows. Confidence became insecurity. Optimism turned into doubt. It felt as if my dreams were better described as fantasy. I’m not here to be overly dramatic about this. In fact, I find this emotional roller coaster to be a positive thing – and one that comes with my dedication to a life of fitness.
On the outside, I faced the challenge of shutting down by being positive and hopeful. When a friend expressed his sympathy for how much it sucks that I had to deal with this injury while training, I responded, “Just another obstacle to overcome!” That wasn’t a lie. But it didn’t convey all that was going on inside of me. It didn’t reveal how much it hurt emotionally to face the possibility of failure.
Still, facing failure at this stage of my fitness journey is easier than it was when I started this over a decade ago and my life depended on succeeding at it. I walked into that first training session with Paul (the trainer who saved my life) believing failure was inevitable. Ultimately, it wasn’t, and all I’ve achieved since taking that first step, only made me dream bigger and reach higher – so much so that I came to believe that success – not failure – is what’s inevitable.
To believe I will succeed at everything is not delusional. I know I won’t accomplish it all, and I wouldn’t want to. I know that there are times I will fail. I even hope there will be. Without it, I’d be left wondering what more I could have done. One cannot truly experience the thrill of victory without knowing the agony of defeat.
Ultimately, both success and failure come down to how I respond to it all. Over the past three weeks, there were times I nailed the response and others where I let it all get the best of me – or so it felt.
You see, the first thing that happened when I shut down in the middle of the most aggressive training I’ve ever encountered was that I barely knew what to do with myself. I still worked out. I swam, climbed, and did strength training within the boundaries of what my body could do pain-free. But that left me with way more time on my hands than I was used to. More time to be in my own head.
I questioned everything I did, wondering what I did wrong. Did I train too hard? Was there something – like keeping my hip stronger – that I didn’t do enough? Or did I do it all right, and perhaps, finishing 26.2 just isn’t in me? It’s perfectly fine to ask any – or all – of these questions. Self-reflection is part of moving forward. But when it overcomes me, it can bring out my worst instincts. Those that seek comfort rather than challenges. For at least a few days over the period in which I was shut down, I let these instincts get the better of me.
I spent a bit more time in front of the television indulging in comfort food. It’s been so long since I did that, and thankfully it didn’t last long. My body couldn’t handle the extra salt and sugar. It was a refreshing realization that I’ve worked so hard to get it used to a healthy diet that it now rejects the junk that used to be my norm.
But while I quickly returned to my better dietary habits, my mind continued to wonder if I’d ever reach my dream of running the NY Marathon. It also began to wonder if I even wanted to – but not in the way you expect. Of course, I want to cross that finish line. I’ve visualized it so much that I feel as if it’s already happened. But at what expense? You see, when I started running it was never for the love of it. I did it purely because I set this goal to someday join so many others who have run 26.2. I set aside other workouts I enjoyed more to pursue this journey. And before my injury, I assumed that’s what I was still doing. But when the injury happened, it was not just the anxiety of the possibly shattered dream that overcame me. It was an empty space where I was missing what I now truly loved.
I missed my hobby. I needed it. I wanted it back. Much like I had changed my body in a way that needed to eat healthy – and loved doing so – I changed my mind in a way that needed to run and loved every second of it. I found that running was no longer about having to achieve the impossible. It was simply about the space I’m in when I am out there. A space where my mind is free. A space where I am part of a community that is out there no matter the conditions. A space that reminds me how far I’ve come. Running – and loving it – is simply everything I’ve dreamed of come true.
But while this is yet another example of how the journey is much more of a reward than the destination, this time, the destination is hard to let go of. My emotional struggle in dealing with this injury was one where I have thought long and hard about what I would sacrifice to make this dream come true. The race is now less than six weeks away. As I work my way back into training, each run comes with some fear that the pain will return. And I wonder how I will handle it if it does. What would I sacrifice to finish this race?
But aside from those worries, there’s another part of this mental game that I’ve come to embrace. It goes back to what I said earlier when I responded to my friend by saying, “Just another obstacle to overcome!” Even among the fear and insecurities, I have come to relish the opportunity to beat whatever comes my way. So much so that I have become addicted to it. So, when doubt creeps in, I say, “bring it on!” When I get terrified, I say, “let’s go!” And when facing the possibility of failure, I say, “fail big!”
Thankfully, for now, I’m running pain free. I did my first long run in four weeks on Saturday, hoping to make it for about 10-12 miles. Well on my way to that, I decided to take it even farther. Alas, that wasn’t to be, but not because my body couldn’t handle it . . .
Yeah, as my run was going so well and I aimed for a 13-14 mile run instead, I took a fall and my face hit the pavement, cracking my front tooth. And yeah, shit happens. But I couldn’t have been happier at the end of the run where my body felt great and my mind was back in the space that it missed so dearly. I can easily say that I’d trade a tooth for that feeling any day!
Aaron
Total miles run per week of training:
Week before training began: 15.2 miles
Week 1: 23 miles
Week 2: 20.7 miles
Week 3: 23.2 miles
Week 4: 20.6 miles
Week 5: 25.75 miles
Week 6: 24.2 miles
Week 7: 27.8 miles
Week 8: 22.4 miles
Week 9: 29.2 miles
Week 10: 24.0 miles
Week 11: 9.95 miles
Week 12: 0 miles
Week 13: 0 miles
Week 14: 26.55 miles
See the links below for the other posts in my marathon training series:
Inside my “official” marathon training – 20 weeks to race day!
Know when to say when – a little about marathon training and a bit more about life