The Struggle is Real

Well, Emily and I finished the Bronx 10 Miler. Finished is all I want to say about the race. It was quite boring, and about 3 miles in, I wanted someone to Tonya Harding me. I hoped that my husband had hired a man to club me in the knee so I wouldn’t have to continue. Unfortunately, he didn’t. The next 7 miles I only kept going because Emily promised we’d go to brunch and I could eat fried food, and because I didn’t want to let Emily down.

While struggling, I realized that struggle is something I very rarely do. If I don’t do well in something, I give up. Take ice- skating for instance. I tried it once when I was in 6^th grade. While on the ice, I immediately felt all of my weight and awkwardness intensified. I felt so out of place. When I fell, I tried to get up using my hands, leading to a major bleeding slice in my hand, which came as a relief that I had an excuse to go sit on the sidelines! After that, I never tried again until my husband made me go to outdoor skating in Bryant Park a few months into our relationship. Although I was lighter at that time and being supported by someone who was willing to sort of cart me around on the ice, I felt all of 6^th grade insecurities and started freaking out on the ice at Bryant Park while toddlers gave me sideways glances as they scooted around. I am not one to try and prevailed using inner strength.

That’s why this race was important, to see that sometimes, things can be okay, even if they don’t go “my way”. I took the learning experience and am now ready to return to training and try to get a bit better at suffering, and dealing with the struggle. Because running, and that feeling a great run can have, is too good to give up on. I want that feeling back again. (Cue sappy music, I know, I know)

Emily and I will be running a 10 miler in January. We want to train and be our best for the race, not for time, but because at the end of the race is free beer and we want to be able to really take advantage of it without feeling terrible.  Priorities people!  

Signing up isn't Enough?!?!?!?

A few years ago, if I signed up for a race, I trained like it was my job. I  would leave my real job early so that I could run! The training would be enough to get my mindset in the right place. I would eat well in the months and weeks leading up to the race and I would be in fighting condition. The night before the big race, I’d fret to my boyfriend about not breaking my PR or not being able to finish, to which he’d roll his eyes, knowing that I would do fine and that it was just me being me.

The day of the race, I’d do well for myself. I’d never stop running, I’d pass the bathrooms like a pro, drinking water if necessary and personal victory was mine. It felt like it was never going to change.

Fast forward a few years to March, 2014. I have a three year old, a lot of extra weight on me and a boyfriend who has turned into a husband. And I also have 10,000 other excuses to put in here, but really, I’ve lost my edge. We sign up for the race and I feel so motivated. “This is going to be great! It’ll help keep us running through the colder months!” “I’m going to lose like 50 pounds training for this thing.” “I’ll run at 4:30 EVERY MORNING! NO EXCUSES.”

But I didn’t live up to any of those promises, opting instead to spend my time hosting holidays and enjoying watching football (and snacks) on the couch every Sunday when it was prime running time. I’d go for the occasional run, but that was about it. The day before the run, instead of a “You’ve got this” that I normally got from my husband about my fears, I got a “You can always stop if you need to”. We did the run and I finished, but I look back on those pictures, you know the annoying ones they take while you are running the race, and I look….scary. Like a lion trying to chance a gazelle, but the lion has been living in a zoo, you know? Like he hasn’t had to chase prey in a long, long time.

So, I try to break the cycle again by signing up with Emily for the Bronx 10 miler. Again I convinced myself that it was going to be great, keep me training for the whole summer! And I’ll lose the 60 pounds I need to lose while doing it! But those thoughts faded to the background. It is less than a week away, and I’m not ready. I am literally going to search the course map in case I need to make a quick escape. My husband said he would come and wait at the finish line, and I was hesitant. “Just make sure you have your cell phone, in case I need you to pick me up in the Bronx somewhere!”

Signing up is the easy part; doing the work is the hard. It’s time to start putting in that work (I use phrases I’ve learned from my students occasionally as though I am a high school senior). I’ll survive this race…hopefully…and then, I can figure out a plan that is realistic and can work, for me. Or ghost me if I don’t survive the race.