Uphill climbing isn't easy...

I've been suffering from 2 fairly serious set-backs in my day-to-day running life for the past several months.  There have been many posts about my frustrations with these things.  These set backs have severely affected the amount of time I spend running, the amount of effort I put in while running, and the way I feel before, during and after running.

In fact, let's just put it out there and refer to these set-backs as what they are: "afflictions."  These afflictions have manifested themselves into two very distinct categories:

1)  The physical affliction - a nagging overuse knee injury that's hung around since mid-October.

and

2)  The mental affliction - a mental "burn out" (otherwise known as the loss of enjoyment in running) presumably the result of 3 consecutive marathons (interspersed with some halves) followed by a half Ironman.

If I've learned anything concrete about running in my years of endurance training, it's that running success is a direct combination between the physical and the mental.

 +  =

Then underlying, overlaying, and encompassing all of that is this:

 Pure heart.

The body and the mind, supported entirely by the heart of a runner is what feeds success in this sport (the definition of the term "success" is widely open to interpretation).  The success of a runner then feeds the heart which restarts the equation.  And around and around we go.

When a piece of the equation disappears or loses it's strength, things begin to slide out of rotation.  Instead of continuing the endless spiral upward (think spiral staircase to the sky), things begin to level out and eventually start spiraling downward (think sink drain).

When two pieces of the equation start to weaken, the downward spiral only intensifies (more like a drain in the bottom of a swimming pool).

Getting stuck in this downward spiral sucks.  It is, for lack of a better word, disheartening.

And when you get stuck in this awful downward spiral, the question inevitably becomes: When will I get to see the light of day again?  How do I reverse the direction of this thing?

I claim to be no expert in any of this.  All I can talk about is me and my over-thought analyses of my experiences.  But after spiraling downward for 3+ months, I can proudly proclaim that I've switched the direction of my spiral.  Things felt pretty dark and hopeless for a while, but I'm beginning to climb the hill now instead of slide down it.

There are a number of factors that I believe contributed to my ability to turn around on that hill (physical therapy, mental recharging, a nice long break, etc.).  And now that I've turned it around, I can officially say that I am in "recovery."  The bad part is over.

Now is the hard part.

As much as it sucks to be down here, climbing out looks a whole lot
harder than staying put.  

In order for me to make the decision to start climbing, I had to realize something.  Something that I knew once, but had forgotten in training season after training season.  One day, this thought occurred to me:

I don't have to run.  I choose to run.

Almost 6 years ago, I chose to run.  I fell in love with running, which made me want to run more.  I chose to sign up for my first half marathon.  And then my first marathon.  And then more.  And somewhere along the line, running started to feel less like a choice.  As impending races compelled me to "stick to the schedule" and "get my runs in," running started to feel less like something I wanted to do and more like something I had to do.  Even though I was the one that signed up for all these races, I somehow forgot that running was a choice.

It become an item on a checklist of things I had to do everyday:

1) Wake up: check

2) Walk the dog: check

3) Go to work: check

4) Run: check

5) Eat dinner: check

6) Sleep: check

The day I realized that running wasn't a requirement on an endlessly repeating list was the day I finally wanted to start climbing out of the hole.

And now, as I continue the climb up, each day I have to remind myself that running is a choice.  Each day, I have to remind myself that I don't have to run.  

And here's the next important step that I've discovered on my road to recovery.  Every day, after reminding myself that I don't have to run, I do one very important thing:

Listen.

And when dealing with two afflictions, there are two things that I try really hard to listen to:

1) I listen to my knee.  I check in with how it's feeling.  Has it been hurting throughout the day?  How did if feel when we ran yesterday?  Is today a day that it can run or does it need a rest?  If, after some very careful listening, my knee gives the okay then...

2) I listen to my head.  Where is my mind at today?  Was it a stressful day at work resulting in that innate need to run?  Or am I just tired and done?  Is that little ninja fighter in my head feeling strong today or does she need a break?  If, after some very careful listening, my mind gives the okay then...

I run.

But I keep listening.

Because this isn't an exact science.  Sometimes I make the right choice.  Sometimes the physical says yes and the mental says yes and that results in an amazing run.  But sometimes it doesn't.  Sometimes one or the other or both change their mind once we're out there.  And when that happens, I go home.  I don't push myself through miserable, painful, unnecessary miles.  Because, right now, I don't need to.

Right now running is a choice for me.

And maybe there are days where I listen, and the answer is no, which means I don't run.  And maybe that's the wrong choice.  Maybe running could have been the best thing I did for myself that day.  And I missed out on that.

But right now, running is a choice for me.  And I'm willing to take that chance.

Let's put all this in a real life context and look at the choices I've made so far this week:

Sunday: After an 8.5 miler on Saturday with Team, my knee wasn't feeling happy.  But it was a beautiful day and I wanted to get outside.  So I chose not to run.  But I chose to take Lucy for a nice long walk.  And that was enough.

Monday: After a nonstudent professional development day at work (meaning I sat in meetings all day, something teachers aren't typically fond of), I was itching to get out and move.  My knee was feeling ok.  So I ran.  But once out there, my mind wasn't in it and my knee wasn't feeling great.  So instead of pushing myself through a planned 5.5 mile loop, I cut back early and barely logged 3 miles  And that was enough.

Tuesday: I felt good and my knee felt good.  I met Ironman Jason for a loop around Green Lake and then continued running as I coached for Team practice, logging about about 7.5 miles total.  I felt great.  And that was enough.

Today: I woke up hoping to get in another short run after work.  I did a lot of miles yesterday and while my knee was feeling ok, I didn't want to push it.  Another easy 3 miler would be perfect.  But throughout the day, my mind wasn't into it.  I ended up staying at work 45 minutes later than I intended to.  I had to run an errand on the way home.  And by the time I got home, I made a different choice.  I didn't run.  And that was enough.

"Enough" is what I'm striving for right now.  I hope that in a couple months, I'll be ready to push a little bit beyond "enough" again.  I hope to enter into Eugene training fully recovered from both of my afflictions.  But right now, the best I'm allowing myself to hope for is "enough."

Each day I listen and I make a choice.

And I keep climbing up the hill.

Which is enough.

For now.