I guess you could say one could say that I have a love/hate relationship with running. Sometimes I feel like I just want to give up, but even one day without running leaves me feeling antsy. In the past few weeks in particular, my relationship with running has been full of more hate than love.
My transition to college running was far from trouble-free, as I have discussed in earlier blog posts. Over the past year, I have put in more miles and ran more intense workouts than I ever did throughout high school. I thought this increase in training would bring me instant boosts in performance, but this has been far from the case. I cannot say I was displeased with every single race I ran all year, but overall I had more bad performances than decent ones. I no longer feel like myself when I race. While I usually feel confident, albeit nervous, and ready to face whatever obstacles come my way, I now feel like I am just going through the motions when I race. Whenever I try to speed up, I feel as if my legs are weighed down with bricks, unable to move. Everything seems to move in slow motion. With my declining race performances, I have become my own worst enemy.
I have always been a perfectionist. My best is never good enough for me, and I put my whole heart into everything I do. Being a perfectionist has helped me greatly throughout my life, as I have accomplished more than I have ever dreamed of. However, it has also led to a lack of confidence, too much negativity, and occasional unhappiness. Running is a sport that seems to attract perfectionists, such as myself. It is appealing to people like me because in running, your performance is affected completely by your own actions. You do not have to rely on anyone else, and you can always improve by putting in hard work. On the other hand, running is also capable of driving a perfectionist crazy. Throughout this year I have pushed myself harder than ever before in training, in hopes of slashing huge amounts of time off of my races. Whenever I was tired and felt as if I was in need of a break, I would push through it by telling myself, "This will all pay off in the end." I always felt as if I had to persevere through. My coach would encourage me to push my limits each and every day, without allowing my body time to recover. When I told him that I was feeling worn down, he would tell me that it was all mental and I was fine. Looking back now, I wish I would have listened to what my body was telling me. With only two weeks left in the season and my championship meet still to come, I am feeling more depleted than ever before. I haven't been racing to my ability level for a while now, and I always responded by doing more training, when what my body really needed was a break. If I would have been proactive earlier on, I could have salvaged what was left of my season. I am going to do whatever it takes to do well at my last couple of meets, even if it requires me to take a few days off of running completely.
As I reflected about my race on the bus ride home yesterday, I thought about what I could do to save the rest of my season. I realized that I needed to physically take care of my body, but that since my physical exhaustion had also taken a toll emotionally, I would also have to make some mental adjustments. Over the next few weeks, I want to rediscover all of the reasons why I love to run. A few posts ago, I wrote about the simple joys I have found in running, and it seems that lately these joys have gone by the wayside, and have been replaced by an overwhelming desire to push myself to the limit. If I want to run fast, I will, once again, have to enjoy the simple pleasure of having the God-given ability to run. God has blessed me with a talent, and I do not intend to let it go to waste.
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