Begin Again
It’s been about four weeks since Western States. To say that recovery has been a learning experience would be an understatement. For the first two weeks after the race I watched every other person who ran come back to running. Meanwhile I was in a constant state of mental breakdown. I cried a lot for no reason I can really think of. I thought a lot of things that were untrue. And some that were true.
“I miss running so much.” “I hate running.” “That race was so fun!” “Never again will I do that to myself.” “There is so much I can do better!” “Who the fuck runs 100 miles?!”
The thing that scared me the most was that I seemed to have lost a part of myself. I lost that sparkle in my eye. I lost my swagger. I lost any sense of confidence I had in running. It took completing a 100 mile race to really question whether I would bounce back every time. My shin was so swollen I thought it was a stress fracture. I didn’t really enjoy that post race euphoria that usually accompanies ultra marathons. I was in a lot of pain and had a hard time eating without nausea. I did enjoy the day after spending time with my crew-family and remembering the fun moments. But I have to be honest, when Ian and I got home, I was in a rather mess of a state.
There isn’t anything fun about crying alone in a hotel room while pain shoots through your legs. It was hard to even convince myself that I ran the race, let alone finished it. The more people congratulated me, the worse I felt. I didn’t deserve any congratulations. I didn’t win. I didn’t even finish in the top ten. It felt so wrong to be in the spotlight in my community for getting 14th at a race. My broken, sleepless body and mind were at the final stage of worthlessness. Talking about the race was hard, yet it’s all people wanted to hear about. I just wanted to escape. Oddly, it made me feel better to direct people to others who placed well. I actually enjoyed celebrating my friend Marianne, Arlen and Michael’s success. It felt good to me to be in a supportive role, to show my community who the real athletes are.
Then, the Friday after the race, my body hit a breaking point and I got sick. Thankfully not Covid or Monkey Pox, but a deep-seated fatigue including a cough and sneeze. Instead of going to Whiteface Mountain to help livestream a race, I stayed home and emceed from my couch. After that I slept. For two days. I slept, I read and I just completely shut down. I still felt miserable but when I read, I escape. Somehow I convince myself I am a part of the characters in the story and live with them. I forget what my role in society is. I forget what other tasks I have taken on and just believe I am a part of the story. That escape was everything.
I recovered from the cold and my inner fire started to flicker. I laughed. I really laughed at the silly sport I love so much. I started to believe I actually completed a 100 mile race. I began my journey of thankfulness to Ian, Riley, Amelia, Ann and Bill who came with me. I started talking about it and thinking about how I could have done it better. How the mistakes I made will be avoided at my next race, no matter the distance. I thought about how lucky I was to have had that chance and if I get it again, great. But also, there are so many other races I would like to do, it’s ok if I don’t go again (for me at least, I will be there for Riley and Amelia when they get the opportunity to go). I started moving forward with healing inside and out, only thinking about running in an ambiguous way while nurturing my other hobbies. I kept reading when I needed to escape. I made a few too many new pasta recipes. In short, I tried to enjoy the post-race I should have gotten. Apparently my body wanted to make me suffer a bit longer before I was allowed to be happy again. Maybe it felt I enjoyed the race too much and I needed to cry and be in pain when I had the time to really feel it and process it. Who knows, my body is on it’s own timeline.
About two and a half weeks after the race, my shin still had some swelling so I went to see a sports doctor to see if it was something like a fracture. Thankfully she believes it lingering bone edema from…you know, running 100 miles, and it should keep going down with time. I began running a bit and hiking on trails looking for a few new fun weekend spots for running when I am ready. My swagger slowly returned and I’d say it’s basically back 100%. The light in my eyes shines as bright as before. The race didn’t break me. But it sure as hell tried.
Thanks Elizabeth for the AMAZING MUG! Check out her pottery HERE
Will I do that again? The jury is still out. I have no 100 mile race plans today. Nor will I for this year. I am looking around at races that might be a good fit, but not signing up for anything. It’s too soon and I am enjoying an unstructured period right now until September. It is my time to support my friends on their adventures.
Onward.