Before I was an ultrarunner I was an Ironman triathlete. I
cared a lot about my time, in fact that was all I cared about for a while.
Forget the fact that I was young, healthy, and had the physical and financial
means to participate in the sport… I wanted to be faster, pure and simple.
I bought into the idea of a “faster” bike. I purchased the
best equipment that I could afford at the time, and I trained my ass off. I
punished myself for poor performances… I saw my time as a measure of my
self-worth. At one point I was working full time, finishing off a college
degree AND training for Ironman Hawaii. I was not a paid athlete, not even an
ambassador. I was fueled by youth, ambition, and an over inflated ego.
I competed several years in this way, pushing…logging each
workout, striving to take seconds off my swim splits until finishing Ironman
Louisville in tears because I was “slow”.
It wasn’t until the next day at the after party as I was looking at my
finishing pictures that I saw it, a frown as I was crossing the finish line of
an IRONMAN. I had just finished an event that so many people will never have
the means to do and I appeared as if my dog just died. In order to last in this
sport something had to change, that something was my attitude.
Fast forward to 2018. I am an endurance coach and ultrarunner.
I work with people every day that remind me of my former self. Pushing, and
punishing themselves to compete in the sport they supposedly love. They come to
me crying, they come to me looking for some consolation that they are worthy
enough, that they will get faster, that they will win, that they won’t be last.
The truth is that some of you will not get faster, some of you will never win,
and some of you will be last. Should you beat yourself into pieces, should you
give up all together?
I recently competed in an ultramarathon which went up to the
top of a mountain and back down. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful
day. I ran with a simple Timex watch to remind me when to eat, I never looked
at it. As I came back into town I ran on
the outskirts of a trailer park where a man sat in a wheel chair cheering on
the runners as they went by. If that doesn’t hit you between the eyes I don’t
know what will. The former me would have raced, trying to take seconds off my
finishing time, trying to place in my age group, trying to prove my worthiness to
myself… to others. The new me slowed down, waved enthusiastically at the man
and yelled “THANK YOU” with tears in my eyes. I was grateful in that moment,
grateful for this gift of movement, grateful to live everyday within this gift.
My message to you is simple, bask in the glory of movement.
Give yourself a break. If you are not a paid athlete, chill the F*ck out. If
you slow down don’t break yourself in two. You have a gift no matter how fast you are! And for God’s sake…run without your
Garmin watch every once in a while.
