A year ago, I was a week away from running the Chicago Marathon (and then going on to run the NYC Marathon a few weeks later.) Iâ€™d fought my way back from an annoying SI joint injury that derailed me from running most of the summer (but I cross-trained/PT-ed really diligently.)
Last weekend, I was really happy to have finished six miles with Ashley.Â I honestly was feeling nervous that I wouldnâ€™t be able to finish, Iâ€™d been feeling so crappy. My lungs would hurt, or my legs would hurt, or Iâ€™d just psyche myself out.Â
I spent most of the summer on-and-off-again sick with sinus infections and various other crap. I missed a half-marathon I was going to travel to Canada (eh?) for. I missed quite a few training runs. Finally, around Labor Day I decided to call it. It wasnâ€™t happening.
CouldÂ I have pulled it together in the 10 weeks I had left? Probably. Could I have gotten through it? Probably. But Iâ€™ve done that before, twice, and a marathon is neverÂ easy, but a marathon youâ€™re not going into in tip top shape is a special version of hell. Iâ€™ve experienced it, and I want my next marathon to feel as good as a marathon can.
But. Thatâ€™s not where I am. I spent some of September trying to figure out if I could maybe do a later marathon before deciding thatâ€™s just not where I was. It was a waste of energy and unrealistic.
Instead, I decided for my mind to meet my body where it was. And Iâ€™ve been enjoying running so much more since then.
Iâ€™m not where Iâ€™ve been before. Iâ€™m not where Iâ€™d like to be, even. But I am where I am, and Iâ€™m going to make the best of it while I work to get back to that place where running feels so much easier, where I feel like I could run forever.Â But notÂ the place where Iâ€™m ruled by my watch. Thatâ€™s what takes the fun out of it.
How do you accept when youâ€™re not where you want to beâ€¦in running, or life?