When I was in middle school and high school, I was a running phenom. Being really good at something at such a young age narrows your world. It seems like nothing else matters. I lost perspective on what running was. I thought that to be successful, I had to go all-in. I thought the grind was what was going to get me where I wanted to be. It turned out this obsessive nature is what led to my decision to not compete collegiately. For almost four years, I didn’t step foot on a track. I ran without a watch. Running was still a part of me, but it was not all of me. It was during this time when I stopped looking for external gratification from my running results that I finally discovered why I had fallen in love with running in the first place.
Fast forward 10 years and here I am with the same thoughts I had as a teenage girl. In 2016, I started to train and compete competitively again, and my obsessive nature slowly creeped its way back into my life. For 4 years, I had one objective: to qualify for the 2020 Olympic Marathon Trials. While this journey was filled with endless trials and tribulations, it ultimately led to my biggest achievement. On February 29, 2020, I toed the line with the nation’s best marathoners and experienced one of the most incredible memories of my life. It felt like a dream, but then… nothing changed. I had reached the pinnacle of what I had always viewed as successful, but I still had the same insecurities and doubts I always had. What now? What did I have to accomplish now to keep placating the deep feeling inside of me that I wasn’t enough?
For some time after the Olympic Trials, I simply basked in that feeling of achievement, but then came the questions. What’s next? Would I try again in 2024? Could I do it again? Should I try? In the midst of all of this, a little thing called COVID-19 took over the world. Millions were fighting for their lives, losing their jobs, and people were simply trying to survive. I was so fortunate to have my family and those around me stay healthy, but there were so many who weren’t so lucky. This pandemic will be remembered as one of the most tragic time periods of all time, but as selfish and embarrassing as this sounds, having a global pandemic alleviated some of my own anxieties. If races were canceled, then there was no pressure to run them.
Throughout the summer, I was running, but very minimally, attempting to give my body some necessary recovery, which is ironic, considering the fact that today marks 14 weeks without running. I started experiencing some hamstring and adductor issues in the summer but blamed them on all the marathons I had just done, expecting the niggles to go away on their own. I trained through the fall, reaching a new level of fitness. While I was in excruciating amounts of pain on a daily basis, the highs of running some of the fastest workouts I had ever run, kept me from stopping. Finally, in January, I decided to get an MRI. Not only did the results show that I had what looked like a stress reaction on my hamstring origin/attachment, but I also had severe tendinopathy. I have experienced high hamstring tendinopathy before, and while it was always a nuisance in the past, this time was different; it was debilitating. I still have moments where I cannot sit on the couch without an ice pack, I have a pillow I have to sit on when driving, and I just ordered a doughnut pillow for anytime I have to sit and do work. I have reached a new low! But all jokes aside, the past 14 weeks without running have been some of the hardest times of my life. There is a deep hole that I feel stuck in, a lack of hope and uncertainty about the future, and most of all, a constant, almost dull fear deep within, about whether running has been taking away from me forever.
This injury is just not progressing in the way I had expected and/or hoped, even after taking guidance and instructions from (various) experts. I need to load the tendon, but it’s a fine line between loading and repairing and over-loading/going two steps back – and it’s not an easy injury to read in that way. There currently seems to be no concrete pattern of progress which is partly why it’s such a struggle. Alongside this is a constant wondering of who I am when I’m not a runner? I must find a way to separate my identity from what I do. When you tie your identity too closely to what you do, anytime you fail at that thing, you will take it as a failure of yourself. It won’t be “I failed at running,”’ it will be “I am a failure.”
Here are my takeaways. We have all survived 100% of the hard things that have happened to us. Each of the moments, memories, things that have happened in our lives, have helped to shape us into who we are now. Yes, many of these moments have been tough, but without these moments, we would not have experienced some of our greatest joys either. There is power in understanding that pain is part of the process and failing is part of the journey. Choosing the easy road doesn’t lead to growth, it leads to mediocrity. It’s not about avoiding the struggle; it’s about developing the ability to thrive in it. Don’t look too fondly at the glory days and think that they hold some secret to success. Focus on what you can do at the moment to get better, not what worked or didn’t work in the past. Don’t force things. There will be some tremendous highs and some depressing lows. You’ll question everything, and at times, things will seem meaningless. You can’t shove your way to success, instead you have to do the work to put yourself in the position to succeed and see what happens.
One of my good friends recently said to me, running is awesome, but it isn’t everything. Yes, running is something that I am passionate about, but it is not who I am. I am really trying to refocus my energy on all that I am without running. Perspective is crucial. Nobody really cares how fast or slow I run in circles or from point A to point B. The only people who truly care will be there even if I fail at all of those things. Each one of us has a unique potential and purpose; far too often we look at other people and make their approval the standard we feel compelled to meet, and as a result, squander our very existence and purpose. I have the opportunity to live each day as best as I can and trust that this comeback will simply be another chapter in the saga. One thing is for certain, when I lay my head to rest, I will have one hell of a story to tell.