A Quiet Storm
I’m in an interesting place right now…in between oversharing and not sharing at all. I find more value in observing as it informs my own growth and improves my relationships/future interactions. I learned about the power of observation through my sport psych program, so perhaps I’m a little heavier on that side of the see-saw.
I have two big races this year that seem so overwhelming in a few ways. Now, is my time to share.
I’m working on unpacking the weight of these races.
I think some of the pressure comes from my recent experience; it’s been a minute. 2022 was a year of ultra running…and honestly, I loved it all. I celebrated long-ass, challenging runs that pushed me past my highest weekly miles. I felt so strong mentally, too, as I had an opportunity to apply newly learned mental skills to help melt some of the discomfort of uncomfortable times. I wasn’t sad when it was over because I knew that I’d be “lifting and shifting” my focus back to triathlon. And so, bringing this full circle - I haven’t raced a triathlon since October of 2021.
That triathlon training block was also a different experience for me, as I coached myself. I certainly do a good job of holding myself accountable and not tapping out when shit gets hard, but I’m also ME. I show up with the most bias because - well, ME. Onboarding a more experienced coach certainly took that piece of the responsibility away from me, yet it also seems to hold me more responsible.
The passage of time freaks me out. Trust me, I understand time. I appreciate living in the here and now; something that helps slow the perception of time; however, when I was faced with the reality of - “wow, your race is in 12 weeks” (a direct quote from two nights ago) - I can’t help but feel that heart-sinking, anxiety wave of chills and palpitations hijack my mind/body. I ran down the claustrophobic rabbit hole of “oh-shit-that-means-my-other-race-is-4-weeks-away”. Needless to say, I used the technique of visualization in a negative way - I visualized myself going through the deferral process. Not soon after, I checked my workout for the next day and that just pushed me over the edge. Imposter for sure.
The caveat here, as I offer some of this publicly, is that I find it mildly embarrassing to talk about my races with people who don’t have a window into endurance sports. I know that most of what I do and what I coach is extraordinary. I work with extraordinary people doing extraordinary things with their extraordinary mind/body. I, too, (at times, definitely not today) feel extraordinary. Running 50 miles through the town of Emmaus, PA is extraordinary. Fifteen-hour training weeks is extraordinary. Pushing through discomfort multiple times per week is extraordinary. I’m doing the things, but is it enough?
Maybe not.
The suffering beauty of that question is not one of us knows the answer. EVER. This certainly causes anxiety. Perhaps it’s more comforting that no one knows the outcome. We’re all in this together, right?
