I'd Rather Be (Not) Running

"Never let success get to your head. Never let failure get to your heart."


Dear self,
After all of these months, thinking about nothing but running, why don't you want to do it? Why after everything we've gone through, all of the tears we've cried over running why after all of that can't you bring yourself to go on a stupid 15 minute run?
Extremely frustrated,
You

As I mentioned before in Saturday's post I'm having some trouble running. Not trouble like I'm hurt or that my stride is off or my legs are tired. Trouble as in for the first time in my life...I don't want to run.

I've wanted to run my whole life. Since I was in kindergarten and the most popular game in my class was known as "boys chase girls" I've loved to run. Needless to say I was never caught by a boy and from there on in discovered I had a wonderful gift.They stopped chasing me. As we got older I'd challenge anyone and everyone to a race across the playground when the bell rang to signify the end of recess. People stopped racing me. I kept running. I begged to play midfield in soccer so that I could run across the field the most. I won every game that included running such as tag, ghost in the graveyard, kick the can. I never lost, I never stopped running.

I ran my way to winning gradeschool races, high school races, and finally college races. I ran my way to awards and nationals and away from anything in life I didn't want to deal with. I ran through sadness and injuries and life. I never questioned running. Never until now. I don't know what happened. Or how. All I know is that I don't want to go running. Realizing this makes me want to cry, but it doesn't make me want to run. I'm sad for myself, my training partners, my teammates. But not sad enough to run. I miss it more than I've missed anything ever, I feel a sense of longing when I think about those 10 mile runs that used to grant me such joy, but for some reason I don't miss it enough to want to run. I'm so mad at myself for feeling this way. Not mad enough to want to run.

Last Wednesday I woke up and all I wanted to do was run. I set off at a 6:40 clip for 16 minutes in a torrential downpour. I came home exhilarated and in love with how my body felt to let go again and run. And then an hour later the feeling went away and didn't return. I'd rather do anything right now instead of run. Rather ride, walk, swim, elliptical, pack, brush my teeth, clean my apartment....you get it.

I don't know what happened or how. I don't know what mechanism in my brain turned off and made the person that was a crazy little runner girl go away. But something's missing.

Getting hurt, was devastating. It hurt more of me than just my foot. I worked my way through the stages of sadness. First was the initial shock and denial. I didn't believe this had happened. I figured I'd be back by track season. Next the anger, next the extreme bottomless depression, followed by slow recovery. Next was working through it and putting reason and logic into all that had happened. I reached the acceptance level. It sucked, but I was O.K. I understood.  I found hope. I started running. And then I regressed. What I think I never quite worked all the way through was the anger. Some of it at myself, some of it at running itself. Somewhere in this entire mess I didn't completely forgive what had happened. I haven't completely forgiven myself, but I haven't completely forgiven running. I know it sounds strange that I need to "forgive" running, my one and only passion in life for betraying me, but I do. And I can't. I can't get over that anger, and I can't run until I stop being angry at running. No. I don't know where this came from, only that I wish it would go away.