Not sure what I was thinking this morning when the alarm went off. I swiped my phone and shut it down – there would be no run this morning for a few good reasons. It’s Thursday, which means it’s “Champions” day – I’ll be running with my group tonight. Also, It’s workout day at the gym; legs. I have a lot to study for my Accounting class, I want to draw up a mini-plan to present Sharon for the Sports Marketing participation plan and the house is a mess.
But what I really want to talk about today is motivation, injury, self-doubt. Since running the Colossal Cave/Vail 50/50 – I was signed up for the 50 miler but dropped to the 50k – I’ve been a little down. Maybe a lot down but now almost a month later, I’m not as down as I was.
That failure really gives me an appreciation for those who don’t reach their goals but still accomplish something amazing. I get it. I ran 34 miles and that’s pretty awesome but when you’re supposed to run 50 and you run 34, the number that has any meaning is absent – I just didn’t run the full amount. I guess what I learned is that if someone doesn’t reach their goal, maybe don’t harp on what they did do and how they ‘still accomplished so much’. Maybe just listen, tell them it’s ok, tell them not to get so into revenge-mode that they hamper their next success. Slow, steady recovery, learn from it, move on.
Maybe that’s just me, but as great as 34 miles is, it’s still not 50. I hope I can be simultaneously happy with 34 miles and disappointed it wasn’t 50 miles, at the same time. Not trying to belittle my awesome friends who tried to comfort me – I’m sorry if that’s how I come across – and I’m not ungrateful.
Dropping was the right decision. My heart felt funny the whole race, like it was working way harder than it should have been working. In retrospect, I wonder if it was all in my head, but I really don’t think so. I remember feeling that way and being guarded against the negativity – staying positive, being light-hearted and staying in a zone or bubble. It was working but the feeling I had in my heart was still there. It was working in a zone 3 when I was actually doing a zone 2.
Then when I ate the Cliff Pizza Margherita packet at the Sonoita/Sahuarita junction, that started to play with me. It turned acidic in my stomach and I was burping up hot gas. At one point I thought I was going to throw-up.
My mental game went out the window completely. I was broken and thinking of dropping at Sonoita/Sahuarita. I got back and bitched about life and everything, but was able to keep my mouth shut about dropping and I pushed on to the next aid station.
I got a second wind but my left knee, calf and something in my hip were on the verge of cramping up. It was painful. I kept going. At the last aid station (Gabe Zimmerman, before La Posta Quemada), I started to walk again. Eventually, I ran ahead of Stephen Hughes before helping him up the bank and across the finish line. I quit.
Looking back, I ran that last section. Sure, it was downhill but dammit, I had gas in the tank still – I quit.
So that happened. Looking back, it kinda makes the case that I’m mentally weak – an accusation my mind levels at me from time to time. I’m not, but it’s something I have to work through here and there. It wouldn’t be fair to condemn myself when there are times where we just aren’t ready for what we’re trying to accomplish. Something we eat, the amount of sleep we have, shoes, mental state, emotional state? – Things don’t line up, and we just have to take what the race gives – or life – and do our best.
I did my best and I did nothing foolish (DNF).
Anyway, I’ve wasted enough time.
Breakfast: 2 eggs (omelete style) with sweet mini peppers, mushrooms and bacon. Bulletproof coffee. Water.
Lunch: Spinach/Iceberg Lettuce Salad with sweet mini peppers, celery, mushrooms, bacon and bacon grease. Water and water.
Agenda: Cook breakfast/lunch. Pedal to recreation center and workout for 1/2 hour. Print exam review/work problems. Go to class at 2-4 for exam review. Come home, go to Champions.