Wednesday, September 5, 2007
weirdness
After feeling like I've been running underwater for a week, it was a nice change this morning to feel unharnessed. I haven't felt like my old running self in a long time. This morning was a close as I've come. I almost took my hair down, and outstretched my arms, Laura Ingles style, but I refrained. Today I longed to run a fall marathon. I want to so badly, I don't have a goal time... just the desire to finish. IT's a rite of passage. I'm not a real runner if I don't, right? It's all I want. I love everything about the fall marathon. Pink, green, red, black and orange to start. Live music. bananas and beer at the finish. crunchy leaves wisping around the trampled water cups in the street. They guy with the long beard and the pony tail (come on every marathon has one of those guys, and he's usually wearing a loud mismatched outfit). I love all of it, down to the foil blanket and massage tent at the end! *sigh*
Monday, September 3, 2007
race reflections
In the month since I last posted I have run a couple of races. Some went well. Some were a disaster. Saturday I ran a personal worst in the 5k by 30 seconds. Sure, I was upset. Okay, lets be honest. I really wasn't "upset", like crying my eyes out upset, I was frustrated. To be even more frank, I was only frustrated because the girl that beat me was caddy about it. Even that frustration would've been short lived had Casey not been there. Of course I wanted to win, and to run a PR, but when it didn't happen my initial response was "oh well, I'll have a better day next time. This is just a piddly 5k race, better here than somewhere important!" Since everyone else seemed so upset I felt guilty for not caring more.
Then came the storm of accusations from an over invested husband, and the smirks from the winner. Of course at this point, so close to my so called "failure", I started to think I was a weirdo for not caring more. Shouldn't I be fierce always? Wouldn't a "good" runner get pissed, and maybe throw their shoes. Maybe I should find some shoes to throw. It felt wierd that Casey was so much more disappointed in me than I was. I started to think I didn't care about being good anymore. Maybe I was burned out and didn't know it. Then I watched the boys run the kids race.
Cooper finished near the front with the 9 and 10 year olds and didn't even notice his accomplishment. All he cared about was getting the free sucker, and gatorade. Sir Willem finished near the back (but was one of the youngest kids in the race). When he crossed the line he said, "Mommy I winnded. I get phree dollars!" Their place in the pack didn't mean nearly as much to them, as their PERSONAL performance. They were so cute with their numbers and ferocious race faces! Their fiercness ended when the race did.
That's when I realized I am the same way. I am not burned out. I am a fierce competitor, but when the race ends my life begins again. It occured to me that many of us forget what it's about. I'm not a weirdo for not throwing my shoes like a baby. I just love to run. For me winning is a bonus. If I have a bad day, it's just another day. Don't kid yourself. I am intense. I am hard on myself. I do an inventory and make changes, but I also wipe it off. I'd prefere to just forget about it and move on to the next one.
As for Saturday? My place and time may have sucked, but I am still proud of my performance. It would've been easy to quit for a lot of reasons: no one would ever see that slow time next to my name, I felt like crap, and it would've save the heartache second place seems to cause. I didn't quit. I didn't make excuses. I finished it, and it was totally worth it. The course was beautiful, the race was well run, and I still made 100$. The Sun's mellow morning light was reflecting off the Rock River. The trees formed an illuminated canopy I lost myself in, in order to forget the pain. My legs may have been jello. They may have been moving in slow motion, but I'd love to run this race again. I would say this performance was better than my BiX performance because I put a lot more effort into this one. If I only ran these races because I thought I'd always win, I would get burned out. I run these races because I love to run, and that's why I'll be around for a long time!
Then came the storm of accusations from an over invested husband, and the smirks from the winner. Of course at this point, so close to my so called "failure", I started to think I was a weirdo for not caring more. Shouldn't I be fierce always? Wouldn't a "good" runner get pissed, and maybe throw their shoes. Maybe I should find some shoes to throw. It felt wierd that Casey was so much more disappointed in me than I was. I started to think I didn't care about being good anymore. Maybe I was burned out and didn't know it. Then I watched the boys run the kids race.
Cooper finished near the front with the 9 and 10 year olds and didn't even notice his accomplishment. All he cared about was getting the free sucker, and gatorade. Sir Willem finished near the back (but was one of the youngest kids in the race). When he crossed the line he said, "Mommy I winnded. I get phree dollars!" Their place in the pack didn't mean nearly as much to them, as their PERSONAL performance. They were so cute with their numbers and ferocious race faces! Their fiercness ended when the race did.
That's when I realized I am the same way. I am not burned out. I am a fierce competitor, but when the race ends my life begins again. It occured to me that many of us forget what it's about. I'm not a weirdo for not throwing my shoes like a baby. I just love to run. For me winning is a bonus. If I have a bad day, it's just another day. Don't kid yourself. I am intense. I am hard on myself. I do an inventory and make changes, but I also wipe it off. I'd prefere to just forget about it and move on to the next one.
As for Saturday? My place and time may have sucked, but I am still proud of my performance. It would've been easy to quit for a lot of reasons: no one would ever see that slow time next to my name, I felt like crap, and it would've save the heartache second place seems to cause. I didn't quit. I didn't make excuses. I finished it, and it was totally worth it. The course was beautiful, the race was well run, and I still made 100$. The Sun's mellow morning light was reflecting off the Rock River. The trees formed an illuminated canopy I lost myself in, in order to forget the pain. My legs may have been jello. They may have been moving in slow motion, but I'd love to run this race again. I would say this performance was better than my BiX performance because I put a lot more effort into this one. If I only ran these races because I thought I'd always win, I would get burned out. I run these races because I love to run, and that's why I'll be around for a long time!
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