Run

I’m a big believer in things happening for a reason. The reason may not be clear at the time, but I feel like eventually, things fall into place and some sense can be made of things – good and bad. I was listening to a podcast the other day about a swimmer /triathlete that overcame a serious alcohol addiction. She eventually started over and finally found happiness within herself. She is now a coach and has learned to love sharing her story in the hopes that it helps others. I couldn’t really relate to her telling the story of her addiction as I have never really had an addiction like that, but I could totally relate to her reason behind sharing her story. Then she started to talk about all her athletes and how they are very prone to addiction. I immediately thought she meant doping, then she clarified. She said that so many of the people she trains are so addicted to the numbers, the goals and the specifics in training, that they lose sight of the joy in it. She said that they obsess over marking off their workouts and making sure to hit those exact heart rates or intervals. She tells her athletes to stop looking at those things so much and just try to enjoy the sport. I felt like she was talking about me, but didn’t want to think about it.

Yesterday, we did the Jingle Bell Jog. It’s a race put on by a local running club, it’s fairly small but with a great turn out. This was our second year doing this run and we really enjoy the atmosphere. We got dressed up in our best running elf costumes and most people run with jingle bells somewhere on their body. Every time one of these fun races comes up, I have to tell myself that time doesn’t matter… this is for fun, not a PR. Nearly every time, I have to tell myself that more than once. Why? You may ask. Well, because I guess I am a bit competitive. I really want to run at as fast a pace I can and see how I do, that’s why. Don’t get me wrong, running or walking with the group is always fun, but it doesn’t hit the old adrenaline button like running all out and crossing that finish line nearly drained of everything you have does.

This time was no different. When Darin asked if I wanted to run for time, I casually responded “You know, whatever, I’m not worried about it. We are here for fun. ” He knows me well enough to know when I am lying through my teeth. He knew that our one friend was originally going to run, but wasn’t feeling great and could not today, but the other was up for trying to run the entire 5k. “Why don’t you two run it and I’ll keep an eye on the kids” he replied. I immediately accepted. The one thing other than running at my max that gives me that adrenaline, is helping someone else run at theirs. We headed off and I must say, I was surprised I was able to handle the jingle bells as well as I did. I went about a mile before I snatched mine off. She and I completed the run and waited at the finish line to cheer everyone on as they came through. I think everyone did really well and had a good time.

After the race, my brother came over and we were discussing all things about life and somehow got on the subject of my training. He and I are a lot alike, so I told him about the podcast. He immediately knew that she was describing me (and him) to the letter. I talked about how I absolutely hate seeing my Training Peaks calendar have any red on it. There have been days where I worked out when I probably should not have, just to see it light up green. Then I confessed how the other day, I went to the pool and was supposed to swim 1,750 yards but only did 750 because I just was not feeling it. Being me, I couldn’t take that the TP calendar marked it as red. So, what did I do? I changed the goal to match what I did, so it would turn green! We all had a huge laugh and in that moment, I realized that although we were laughing, that was really sad. I changed the goal back so that I now have Christmas mix of green and unfortunately red on my calendar.

Later the same day, I read an article in Women’s Running magazine. In it, the woman describes this obsession that can hit some runners. They do a few 5k and then immediately they want to do a 10k. After that, they need to do a half marathon, and then a full. They just can’t help themselves. They have to mark that accomplishment off and never even take the time to relish in how great it felt to achieve it, before setting up the next biggest goal. It’s a form of addiction to a certain extent, and apparently, I suffer from it. Like some junkie in a corner slapping their arm getting ready for the next injection of whatever their drug of choice is, I am chomping at the bit for the next big goal. My high doesn’t come from a substance, but trying to do substantial things. I love hitting that “done” button on the workout everyday. I get that high when I hit “register” for a race, and don’t get me started on how actually hitting a PR makes me feel!

I pondered these things for the rest of the day and came to the conclusion that I am most certainly addicted. I know they always say step one is admitting you have a problem, but is this really a problem? Isn’t being addicted to something that is good for you, well… good? I think to a certain extent that is true, but when I took a good look at how I have been feeling lately, and all the signs I have been given but ignored, I realized I’m addicted in several ways, some I am ok with, others I need to change.

The first thing I realized, is that I am exactly the person that they were talking about in the article. I started running to be a better pet parent. I was thrilled that I was then doing 5ks in about 45 minutes, then that eventually became 30. The funny thing is, I could be so much better. I could beat my under 30 minute time goal if I just focused on that one goal. I got started training for the first sprint triathlon and thought that was going to be my major goal. I would be able to say I did one. The moment I checked that off my list, I wanted to go for the next size up, the Olympic. Looking back, I may have decided that before I was even dry from the swim, and that was a struggle! I’ve already been saying the goal for next year was a half Ironman. I have become the jack of all these trades but master of none. I haven’t taken the time to hone any of these skills before moving to the next.

Next is the training obsession, ok, addiction – there I said it. I have always had to double check that little voice in my head to make sure that I am not just wimping out on a training session if I am not feeling it. Truth be told, I am scared of going back to where I once was. I am scared of becoming sedentary again. I like moving, I like how I feel. All those little “why’s” I wrote about are still there and I want to nourish those. I like the person I am when I feel good, when I feel healthy and strong.

I slept on it and made a decision. The moment I did, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders, yet at the same time I felt a little uncomfortable. Feeling that discomfort is a sign that I made the right decision. What I decided is that I am changing things up! I am letting go of the thought that the next goal needs to be bigger than the last accomplishment. This year, I am going to focus on the races I have already signed up for and while doing so, I am going to prioritize all those little goals and the things that really make me happy. Running is what makes me most happy and I have two big races coming up, a 10 miler in March and half marathon in April. I also have that Olympic distance triathlon in March. I am going to rearrange my training plan to focus more on my running and swimming. I am not worried about time for the triathlon, so I am going to focus less on the bike than the plan suggests. When I swim, I am going to focus on all those little things I have wanted to work on, but have been so consumed with marking off the number of yards that I have lost sight of the quality of yards. I know in the end, this will make the swim portion that much better an experience for me. I am not picking another big race until I feel truly satisfied with the smaller ones. So, my half ironman dreams may have to wait another year or so, but I know it will come one day. For now, I have to stop making this about the addiction of bigger goals and checking off boxes, and get it back to being about the enjoyment of the sport. I’m addicted to being happy. That addiction, I will keep.

Back when I did the first triathlon, there was a little seminar of sorts where the newbies were given information about the race. A guy named Jim gave some pointers and information about transition, fueling and a review of the course. It was very helpful, but what stuck with me most was his bio. He told us about how he had a son, Michael now in his 20’s, who is disabled. He then told us how they have done Ironman and Spartan races together. I was completely blown away. I got his business card and watched a video online of him and his son doing the Ironman. He swims the entire distance pulling Michael in a little inflatable raft. He has a special bike and running stroller for the run. They are a true inspiration.

For my birthday, I decided I wanted to the Optime 5k. I was hoping to break my 30 minute 5k curse that day, and unfortunately didn’t but during that race, I saw Jim and his son. There was an entire group of folks in different wheelchairs and running strollers being pushed by runners or family members. When I saw how happy the individuals being pushed were, it brought tears to my eyes. I took note of the name on their team shirts: Special Compass. I looked them up online and wanted to reach out to them, but that was a little too far out of my comfort zone. Months have gone by and I happened across Special Compass in my Facebook feed the other day. I decided to go online and fill out an application to be a volunteer. I figured after some time, I’d maybe hear back from someone, maybe not. Almost immediately, I got an email back stating I could help at the next event… this weekend! I was a little freaked out, but with the boys out of town I needed something to look forward to. Tonight was the run.

It was a little scary heading to the venue by myself and walking up the group that seemed like a well oiled machine, but I did it. I asked for the lady I had been exchanging emails with, but she wasn’t at the event so I asked someone else what I needed to do to help. I assumed that there would be no way I would be pushing anyone as I have never done so. I figured maybe I would help arrange things or stand at the tent, I didn’t know what to expect but was up for anything. I met Jim and asked how I could help. He asked if I could run, I said yes, but I am not fast. He said speed didn’t matter and to just jump in and help if anyone needed it. The team was transferring everyone to their running strollers and getting ready to head over to the start line. The chairs are given a 5 or so minute head start so as not to have to deal with the crowd.

At the start line, I met Michael and the Gi, the guy that was pushing him. One woman told me that keeping up with Gi was almost impossible. I asked what pace he keeps while pushing and he said he usually finishes in like 23 minutes, but he was taking it slow tonight so it would be maybe 26. Inside I was freaking out a little. Even if he was the fastest, how fast were these other people? Am I even going to be able to stay with the group?! Jim came over and mentioned that we need to help keep an eye on the two folks who didn’t have anyone pushing them. I looked over and there was a woman and a man in wheelchairs. I immediately thought about how amazing it was and what arm strength it must take for them to do a 5k. Able-bodied people take a lot for granted.

We started off and I was pacing with a family who had a little boy in a running stroller. It appeared to be an aunt or friend pushing and the mom running next to the stroller. At one point she mentioned that it was so dark and she was a little scared and not able to see her son’s face. Since he cannot communicate verbally, she tries to read his body language and wanted to know that he was ok. The race was a “fun glow” race with black light paint, and parts of the path were a little darker than I expected. I took out my phone and turned on the flashlight to light the path and her son. She checked on him and thanked me. We started talking and she explained that they had done one other race, but she didn’t push and this time she was going to push. I told her that was amazing and if she needed help with anything to just holler. About a mile in, she was starting to slow a bit and said she hoped she could do it. I told her she was doing great and could absolutely do it! I was keeping pace and up ahead keeping an eye on the two folks in the wheelchairs.

We started heading up a pretty hard hill and I saw a gentleman run up behind the guy in the wheelchair and start helping him push. The woman was about to stall and he ran over to her to push a bit and then was heading to the guy again. I sprinted up and got behind the woman. “You got her?” he said. I said yeah, even though inside I was not sure of how this was going to go. He shouted “let’s do this” and he and I broke into a sprint up the hill. He was shouting things like “make sure you are on your toes, using your calves”, he had obviously done this kind of thing before. I pushed myself so hard on what felt like an endless hill. I have pushed myself before, but this was different. I wasn’t pushing for trying to pass someone, I wasn’t pushing to break my 30 minute 5k goal, I wasn’t pushing for a PR. I was pushing so much harder simply because I didn’t want to let this woman down. We hit the top of the hill and she was so excited! She thanked me and we introduced ourselves. Her name is Jessica. I also met the guy in the chair, Ray and the man pushing him is Darren.

Before I could even catch by breath, we were headed downhill. Foolishly, I expected that to be the easy part, but here I was holding onto these handles and running as fast as I could downhill, feeling like any moment we would break the sound barrier. I asked if she wanted to slow down and she said she was good, so we kept going. I wasn’t good, I was dying a little and terrified. We made it to a flat area and I was finally able to catch my breath. Jessica shared her story with us. She has a tumor and had been operated on twice to try to remove it. After her second surgery, she was paralyzed. She fought really hard to be able to walk again and was successful but the tumor returned. Because of scar tissue and the past two surgeries, she was told that they could not operate again and that she had to accept that she would live the rest of her life in the chair. This was her second event and she does it because she doesn’t want to accept that she “can’t” do something. I thanked her for sharing her story, all the while using ever fiber of my being not to break into tears.

Jessica and Ray pushed themselves for bit more and then Darren was talking with and pushing Jessica. Ray was a bit apprehensive in a graveled area and mentioned that the way weight is distributed, a little pothole or rock can lead to him being thrown from the chair when going fast. Just ahead was another hill, Darren was a little ahead with Jessica so I grabbed ahold of Ray’s chair and began to push. He was heavier than Jessica and much harder to push. I physically could not go a fast as I did with Jessica. I told him I was sorry I was not able to go as fast. This hill was twice as hard as the last, or at least it seemed that way. He laughed and said not to be sorry, that he was thankful for the help. He explained that we needed to take the hill in a zig zag because it was a bit steeper than the last. We did, and it made things easier. When we hit the top he asked if he was helping enough. I said “are you kidding me? I think you did most of the work!” We laughed knowing that we both were struggling.

The run went on and thankfully the remaining hills were smaller. Darren noticed my watch and asked if I did triathlon. I told him how I had just started. He has done one full and is planning his second. He shared some tips and told me that Ironman Miami is a brutal race. He told me about another one about two hours north where only about 200 people compete and suggested that it was a great first half. It’s not Ironman brand, but the effort is the same. It made me think. I want so badly to hear those words “You are an Ironman!”, but does the brand matter? I mean of course the swag won’t be branded, but is it worth having to compete amongst a thousand when I could have my first with a few hundred? Something to ponder.

We ran on and there were some really dark areas and rough terrain. I never really looked at a race course from the perspective of someone pushing or in a chair. I think going forward, I will always notice. We could hear the music getting louder and knew we were close the finish. Darren mentioned that we needed to stay together as it was important to them to finish together. As we approached the finish line, they held hands and we all crossed together. We were greeted by Gi and Michael, who had finished a bit ago. Gi is a machine. Ray and I high fived and then hugged. Jessica and I did the same. Darren asked how I felt. I told him that I felt great, but was sure I would feel it tomorrow! He thanked me for jumping in when I saw him hitting the hill with Jessica and Ray and I thanked him for letting me.

We gathered together to wait for the rest of the Special Compass group and cheered as each finished. Jessica and Ray shared more about their lives. They had just recently begun scuba diving! I told them that they are rock stars and that I don’t think I could take the feeling of being under that far and breathing with the tank. Then Jessica described what it felt like for her. The freedom and weightlessness. I told them both that they are an inspiration and hoped to see them at the next event. Once the final members of the group finished, we gathered for some photos. I walked over to Jim and thanked him for letting me be a part of this run. Darren told him how I jumped in and pushed both Jessica and Ray throughout the run. Jim mentioned that now that I was a part of the group, I should get the emails of the upcoming events and to not hesitate to come whenever I could. Their next event in in February at the Disney run but more local events will be coming as well. I thanked him again and headed out.

The walk to the car was quite a hike and the entire time I just kept replaying the night in my head. I got the car and broke into tears. I came into this feeling so unsure of myself and so uncomfortable with having to approach these people by myself as an outsider. I left feeling like part of another family. I left feeling more proud of myself and how hard I worked than I ever had before. I left feeling so inspired and grateful for all that I have. To see these people who work so hard to make life all it can be, no matter what has been thrown at them is something I will never forget. They truly make life so possible in every way.

So Possible´

Addicted, with bells on

Found My Compass