So I've been really down lately about my knee being so busted. I keep moping about how I could be so much faster if my body could just keep up with my heart. And every morning I wake up and say a quick plead that maybe this will be the morning I step out of bed and my knee won't buckle under my own weight and pain won't shoot up my patella - but it hasn't happened in over a week, and every day I get a little more anxious about nationals.
I just don't understand how some people can go out and crush a ten mile run and I can't even handle a 3 mile jog around the river without suffering some detrimental shin issue that puts me out of training for days.
So tonight I was taking refuge by talking to one of my teammates, mostly subconsciously looking for a little pity. But the thing is up until this point no matter what anyone says, it never makes me feel better. I realized it's because everyone has tried to say things to excuse my negative attitude. Comments such as, "It's going to be okay, you put your body through a lot..." or "There's always next year... it's just another race." or, the worst, "Just go for the after party then."
But tonight my teammate really put it into perspective for me. He told me that it doesn't matter what my time is, if I do the best that I can possibly do in that particular moment, that's the most I can ask for. I could do an ultra marathon one month and the next month barely be able to run 3 miles, but no matter what, when I'm out there on the road, "just fucking do it."
In that moment, that swim, bike, or run is all I have. Even if my knee is screaming at me to put it out of its misery, just keep pushing because it will only last a little bit...but knowing I dug deep, stepped it up one more notch past my limit is worth much more than a PR or a point leader jersey.
So this is what makes me feel better: accepting it will hurt, but knowing I will survive. And when I cross that finish line, I'll realize that I'm much stronger than I believed before the race.
When I get on the plane in Texas...I'll be .9 miles swim, 24.85 miles bike, 6.2 miles run stronger than I was when I got on the plane in Boston.
love love love
me
I just don't understand how some people can go out and crush a ten mile run and I can't even handle a 3 mile jog around the river without suffering some detrimental shin issue that puts me out of training for days.
So tonight I was taking refuge by talking to one of my teammates, mostly subconsciously looking for a little pity. But the thing is up until this point no matter what anyone says, it never makes me feel better. I realized it's because everyone has tried to say things to excuse my negative attitude. Comments such as, "It's going to be okay, you put your body through a lot..." or "There's always next year... it's just another race." or, the worst, "Just go for the after party then."
But tonight my teammate really put it into perspective for me. He told me that it doesn't matter what my time is, if I do the best that I can possibly do in that particular moment, that's the most I can ask for. I could do an ultra marathon one month and the next month barely be able to run 3 miles, but no matter what, when I'm out there on the road, "just fucking do it."
In that moment, that swim, bike, or run is all I have. Even if my knee is screaming at me to put it out of its misery, just keep pushing because it will only last a little bit...but knowing I dug deep, stepped it up one more notch past my limit is worth much more than a PR or a point leader jersey.
So this is what makes me feel better: accepting it will hurt, but knowing I will survive. And when I cross that finish line, I'll realize that I'm much stronger than I believed before the race.
When I get on the plane in Texas...I'll be .9 miles swim, 24.85 miles bike, 6.2 miles run stronger than I was when I got on the plane in Boston.
love love love
me
Comments
Post a Comment