Yesterday marked the anniversary of that one time that I didn’t finish the Marine Corps Marathon. After 16 really amazing weeks of training, I got taken out by my immune system. I mentioned this to the BABs while we were running this past weekend and the conversation that followed was really uplifting. And not in a tell me how great I am despite my marathon set back way. In a really positive there are other things to dwell on right now kind of way. And that had me thinking, it’s all about how we frame our running (and our lives to be honest), the tone of the voice in our heads and words that voice uses really matters most. And I sort of had a eureka moment.
Lauren Fleshman says to dwell in positivity. I wholly ascribe to that as much as humanely possible. But sometimes, when you drop you lunch on the floor and the dog is vomming the garbage he ate while you were out on your run that didn’t go well, it’s like really hard to get to 1600 Positive Street in Positive Town 1000000%. And — this has been the important thing for me — that’s OK. Especially as we encourage our inner monologue to like lay off of us while we wallow, for just like 5 minutes — before we return to being real life gangsters.
So, as the anniversary of my DNF came and went, I didn’t really feel the need to bring it back up, to tear myself back down or even let the hurt and kind of foggy confusion of those 5 ish hours fuel my hate fire for the current cycle I’m in. It just happened. I gave myself 5 minutes to be like Geez I wish I had that medal, and then I thought of all the awesome things I associate with that race: Tori’s first amazing marathon, Patrick being in town, tasty Mexican with my besties after I got released from medical, all the amazing finish lines after that race.
I’ve been trying to coach the inner LNRB to choose nicer words, to not drag me down, even when it feels warranted and to know that — in running at least — my current effort is enough. I am enough.