Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Let's Be Honest

If I'm being honest, and I promised myself I would be honest in this blog, I must admit that I've been lazy. Both in my running and my writing. During the last month or so I've avoided Don't Hit the Wall because I've also been avoiding training and I couldn't justify writing about running if I wasn't actually running.

Why wasn't I running? Good question.

I think there are a couple reasons why I started to slack. I was burned out from the training for Nashville and disappointed in my performance at that race. I also started to feel overwhelmed with anxiety and depression and I began to use how I felt as a crutch for what I did (or in this case didn't do). I felt like I wasn't strong enough or worthy enough to accomplish what I had set out to do. And I was terrified at the idea that even though I intended to honor my father's memory I could fail. I didn't handle any of this very well.

Despite my issues, I still had a race to run on June 17th in Canton. I realized I was in trouble a couple weeks back but rather than working hard, I started trying to gain approval from others for not running the race at all. Apparently, my support system is just too supportive. Time and time again I was told "You can do this Laura!", "Your Dad would be so proud.", "Just take it easy. You'll be fine."

Three days before the race, the race director sent an email offering free deferrals and changes to the half marathon. I thought I had found my reprieve. But when it came time to choose my race I stuck with the marathon, despite my concerns. This race meant too much to me to bail out at the last minute. I knew I was in for a rough day.

The race was extremely difficult. My lack of training started to rear its ugly head at mile 15 and was exaggerated by the seemingly non-stop hill climbing. When I first decided to run this race in January I was certain that the significance of the day would overwhelm me with emotion at the finish line. In reality, I was so exhausted that I only felt relief as I crossed the finish line with my worst finish time to date.

Over the last few days I've been reflecting on the experience and what my Dad would have thought of it all. He probably would have given me a hard time about my lazy training and he would have had no sympathy for my lame finish time. He would have said that if I wanted to do better I needed to work harder. And he would have been right. But he would have been proud that I finished. Running a marathon is hard, no matter how much you train and he would acknowledge that.

I still miss my Dad desperately and I'm glad I have running to keep his memory alive in my daily life.

I've learned my lesson and I promise to work harder!

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