Sunday, November 6, 2011

The One That Got Away

As I write this, I am at 187 pounds. I'm in my first semester of xray school, and have undergone many positive life changes since I last wrote in this blog. I'm really really happy. At peace. For the first time in a long time.  I actually hadn't thought to write again- I have basically quit running and put that chapter of my life behind me. Sometimes you don't know when you're going to have to write again though.

Yesterday was the inaugural Rock N Roll Savannah Marathon. Up until earlier this week, I'd still planned to do the race. I was going to walk it with a friend of mine from high school--training be damned, I was going to laugh in the face of training and collect me another half marathon medal. The plan was to go spend the night at my parents' house with the kids and visit with them, do the race, and come home later that night or the next day, depending on how I felt. I was also going to get to meet Ann Marie....who was traveling here all the way from Wisconsin to do the race. We'd had this planned for months...she is one of my dearest friends that I've met through running and blogging.

I just couldn't feel doing this race. My knee has been giving me absolute fits lately...the knee that I injured when I first started running. It still swells up and becomes immovable and very painful all the time. I am in my clinical rotations for school right now. Ten hour days lifting heavy patients and doing very physical work. I love it, every minute of it, but I started feeling scared that doing the race, especially untrained, might screw up my knee more and make me have to miss clinic. There were other, logistical reasons. I didn't want to have to get my kids out of school early, which I would've had to do in order to pick up my packet. I didn't want to have to fight crowds. I have a major research paper due in a week that I've yet to get started on, and really couldn't afford to stay in town an extra night. Blah blah blah.

So I decided not to do the race, but to go to Savannah anyway. I still wanted to see my family, and at least watch part of the race. Figured maybe I could still meet up with Becca and Ann Marie somehow...though I didn't really see how that could be possible, but maybe.  And I had a great time with my family. We watched and cheered runners for an hour or so. It was so exciting! My sister and I walked down to Forsythe Park after the race and just kind of experienced the atmosphere.

And I got sad. I wanted to be a part of that and I could have been. I had PAID to be...but I didn't follow through. I didn't get to meet Ann Marie, or see Becca, or meet John Bingham and have him sign my running books either. And all of that sucked. But it was watching the runners, who at my vantage point were at Mile 15, and seeing that slow, steady, plodding determination in their eyes that really prickled at me. I saw the way they were breathing and I remembered it. Everything came back to me, and I remembered why I ever loved to run in the first place. And I was sad.

All in all, I can't say that I necessarily made the right or wrong decision. I don't regret being able to walk, being well rested for clinic, and having an extra day to work on my paper. I don't regret the weight that I've lost and the peace that I have found with food since I have STOPPED running. I know I'm not ready to throw something else into the mix and disturb that right now. I don't regret not getting caught in standstill traffic, waiting two hours to get over the bridge to get my packet when it should have been 15 minutes max. And I certainly don't regret not torturing myself over the hot summer to train.  I have made my decision, and I am willing to accept the consequences for it, positive and negative.

That being said, I sure didn't expect to experience some of the feelings that I've had this weekend. I didn't expect to long for running so much, and to feel such a ....loss....about it.

I'm a busy person right now.  A busy, fufilled person who doesn't have time for much else. So this whole weekend may have inspired a blog post and nothing else. And that will be fine. I don't need to be a runner right now, and I really don't even want to be.

But maybe just one jog, this afternoon....


  1. I can totally relate to this. I haven't run in a very long time but I still want to to some degree. I guess it just gets under your skin and will always be something that you have accomplished. There will be other opportunities when you don't have such a full plate of things to do.

  2. This post - this feeling that you describe, of being there and being sad that you are not completing the race? Come January 15, that is going to be me. If I think about it for more than a minute or two, I feel like I might cry so I push the thoughts aside. But when race day gets here and all my friends are talking about it, when it's all over the news and social media, I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm actually expecting a meltdown of sorts. Should make for decent blog fodder, maybe. :/