Yesterday I threw myself a pity party. I ran two half marathons this weekend, I should be proud about that. I’m upset because one of those was supposed to be a marathon. I’m complaining about nothing. Don’t judge me. But I am hard on myself and it clouds my judgement. I really should know better. I am being too hard on myself. Maybe I’ve set the bar too high or I need to manage expectations.
When I made the decision at mile 6, I knew it was the right decision. When I rolled through mile 8, I was feeling better and thought I should press on. At mile 9, I finally pulled the plug on the dream of the marathon for a couple of reasons and was content. I enjoyed running the last few miles of the race and finished with a smile on my face.
The next day though, I wasn’t so happy with my decision. I’m hard on myself. Some people call me an overachiever, but I just like to finish what I start. Not finishing is something that is rooted in my overweight days. I would always start something and not care if I didn’t finish. I think it was hard for people to take me seriously and I finally feel I have worked past that whole point in my life. I can’t help but feel a small twinge of disappointment in myself because I didn’t press on. It’s destructive behavior how I rip myself apart over some things. I always want to be in growing pattern, especially after being so stagnant for so long. I want to constant grow and evolve into a new place and this just seemed like a backslide. I know it’s not a backslide. It was a decision; the right decision for me.
The truth: I was hot. I was having trouble focusing. I stopped at medical one time and there was a wee bit of concern for my condition. I was salty and there were some tough moments. I had been in this position before and I knew how to recognize the signs. After finishing the half on Saturday, I knew something wasn’t right but I was going to take care of the problem.
I know I made the right decision for me, but it was a hard pill the swallow the next day. My decision was ultimately bigger than just one Rock n Roll race. I have Georgia on Saturday and the following week I have North Carolina. Those are two marathons I’m going to have to push through no matter what because those count toward my marathon quest. Those races are more important to me than this one race in New Orleans.
I speak openly about these things because I know no other way. I can’t get over things unless I set them free into the world. Speaking the words makes it real. I can’t hide from my feelings. I can’t bottle them up and put them on the self. This is way I have learned to deal with my emotional stress. I speak this truth not to hear people tell me things back, but so I can hear myself. To know that it’s okay not to succeed every time, but know it’s not okay to tear myself down. It’s not okay to make myself feel bad and it’s definitely not ok to make myself feel less than because of a less than desirable result.
Next time something doesn’t go your way, find the positive in the situation. I failed to see the positive in this yesterday. I ran two half marathons, in two days, in two different states. I ran consistent on both days and I did have a good time and I returned home safe and healthy. That is all that matters. Please learn from my little story here because no one is perfect (even though I really do try to be) and there will be dips in the road. Just pick yourself up, learn the lesson and keep moving.
