Dude Where’s my Time?

The really gnarly part is that those metrics given by the timing system- of time and place- were so important because they would be how I explained my performance to everyone besides myself.

The finish line was over half a mile closer than what my watch and the description had given. Ok, fine. The woman ahead of me was in my age group and I might have caught her on a kick, but I didn’t feel that tore up about it. The race was a success in my mind for reasons I’ll go over later. After changing out of my wet running gear into dry clothes, I checked my phone and the live results link, only to find out the electronic timing system had not picked up my bib. I became pretty agitated once I realized that. Even though the race director assured me that his computer had clocked my finish time, I spent about half an hour skulking around the finish line and compulsively refreshing the results site, until I realized I was acting a little psycho and made myself leave the park. I knew my time, and more importantly what I did well and what I needed to work on. I was now doubling down on being hard on myself because I was letting rational thinking get overshadowed by my emotional response- that the lack of public statistical evidence invalidated the fact that I had run the race. The really gnarly part is that those metrics given by the timing system- of time and place- were so important because they would be how I explained my performance to everyone besides myself.

I wanted to come back to focusing on the outcomes I had set out to measure my race to. If you run competitively at any level, you will have goal places if you are a front runner, or if you are not, you’ll look to paces and times to measure your performance.  I didn’t really have aspirations towards either of those for this race. I hadn’t known much about the course, and trail is always tricky to assign pace to anyways, if not damn near impossible when weather hits extremes. I had placed well in shorter trail races a few years ago, but this one was eleven miles and that was long enough for me to become uncertain. My off-road training in the past few months consisted of one pitiful 30-minute jog on the anthills near my home. It wasn’t even a conditioning run, I just wanted to assure myself I still knew how to pick my feet up and not trip over technical terrain. For all these reasons, I decided I needed different kinds of goals to target in the race to keep me present in it even if I was dead last.

The week leading up to the race in Tyler, Texas, I created a three-point race plan. Forming the backdrop behind this list are two my weakest qualities when it comes to running: patience and grit.

  • I would go easy the first four miles, even if I felt good or nervous about being passed I would just hold a steady pace.
  • I would not stop running the entire time- I had checked the elevation on the course map and didn’t believe I should have to walk IF I paced myself ok in the first part of the race.
  • I WOULD KEEP MY NEGATIVE THOUGHTS IN CHECK.

This last one is capitalized because I think it is a huge opportunity for me. I get grouchy even before anything actually goes wrong. I start cursing race directors, the person in front of me, the person behind me, my own idiocy for picking this stupid sport (running sucks) this stupid race (should have waited to compete) this stupid distance (if I signed up for the shorter race I’d be done by now…) and on and on. It’s not like this every race, but I’d like to just not go there at all if I can help it- and I was curious to seeif I could help it.

Spoiler alert- if the they gave out medals for those three things, I would have swept the race. I didn’t risk expending energy chasing someone in the first 4 four miles. I didn’t walk. I turned away from negative thoughts and was able to really enjoy that this race. That morning the conditions were ones I would have avoided leaving the house in let alone running in. I am a wimp in cold and it was in the 40’s. That event consisted of 5 races happening concurrently, going in both directions on the out and back course. There were clumps and strands of runners and walkers to dodge around or let pass at every turn. I did a really good job of keeping myself focused on what I could do, and realized all the other factors were just circumstances out of my control but within my capabilities. At the very least it was a great two hour trail run, which I really missed since moving from Southern California.  If I hadn’t imagined myself holding a positive mental space before the race, I don’t know that I would have even thought to attempt it once I was out there.

A slower time or lower place does not mean I ran a good race, and by “good”, I mean a race where I grow. A faster time and higher place does not mean I ran my best- and that is what I am after this year. Eventually results from the race were posted, and I’m not going to go give them here. Finish times and the varying levels of placing tell only part of the story of a race, but they aren’t even the most important aspects unless you get paid to run (and if you are reading this blog I’m assuming you don’t!) Ideally, I see my performance stats not as a badge but as part of a bigger picture of how I can improve all around. Competitive racing is one of if not the hardest trials I put myself through. The opportunity to strengthen my ability to align my actions to my thoughts, with intention, under duress, is a growth process that I can take into more endeavors than just running.

Some other non-statistical goals that come to mind for me are things like-

On the course:

  1. Repeat a mantra
  2. Go faster, even for a little bit, when you feel like slowing down
  3. Smile at random (I’ve heard it helps release feel-good hormones/chems)

Off the course:

  1. Shake the hands of the people that pushed you, even (especially) if they beat you.
  2. Help a stranger
  3. Check out others’ gear/shoes/tech and find out more about it

 

Let me know in the comments if you have any ideas about this or the topic of multi-goal racing!

Next Chapter

For me, one of the biggest reasons to run is to explore- both places and my limits.

Do you ever take a moment to examine where you are, physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and wonder how you got there? I’ve done it all my life. Sometimes it’s in a appreciative way, something like

“Man! How did I get here? Am I really here? This is so great- I am so lucky!” I was running around the Blue Mountains in Australia last week, having that thought often.

I’ve been through life at the other end of the spectrum though, where I find myself fearfully asking,

“Wait- why am I here? What am I doing? What are they doing? This doesn’t feel good or even ok…how do I get out this?” That sort of question happened far too often in my past. I’d be scraping myself out of one undesirable situation only to land in another where I felt equally uncomfortable, never stopping to take a breath and decide where I actually wanted to go, instead of just ruling out where I didn’t want to be.

As an adult, I was diagnosed with major depression, though I had probably had it since I was a teenager. For me, depression is what settles in to that void between where I am and where I want to be. I had gotten so far from the kind of life I dreamed of when I was young that I barely remembered what that was. I wanted to be on my own, seeing the world, learning as much as I could, and hopefully piecing back together to a whole person that had an altogether confusing childhood.

In contrast, what I was doing was going to college, getting married, settling down, working for bosses I couldn’t stand, trying to hit external marks of progress to give answers to who I was while ignoring my inner voice that said

“Holly, you don’t care about any of this.” I would answer myself with

“There will be time for all of it- I can find myself here in this place, even though it feels wrong right now.” I would eventually drown the voice completely with alcohol, choosing to numb out the resistance I felt to what I was doing. In this time, I talked myself into walking down a wedding aisle when I should have been hustling through an airport.

Eventually I scrambled out. Out of the marriage, out of the traditional image of work,, and most importantly out of alcohol abuse, something I got taken up with when I no longer cared what happened with my life. That took outside help, which I’ll work up the courage to write about in more detail some other time. It has not been a pretty process, but it has been worth every fear and tear. I now find myself on a middle road most of the time, far from despair. I am content with my life, and even occassionally blissful! I no longer ignore dreams or sideline goals, with  permission to make mistakes to get where I am going. The irony is that now, just as before, I have no idea what I am doing- but I since this time I am designing the course, I can rearrange it however I want.

Although in life I feel directionally challenged sometimes- I always know this one cue: “Further”. Further from comfort, further from what is known towards what is unknown. I was like this as a kid, and it’s good to be back here again.

I started this blog more than two years ago as a way to practice writing, using easily accessible subject matterrunning. While I want to share my running travels and process, the overarching goal is to use those experiences to develop as an author, and move towards some day being able to write about my broader life and deeper throughts. I have stories outside of running that are wild, somber, joyful and sad, and through it all I relentlessly engage in new experiences so that I keep recovering hope and cultivating wonder. I want to be more consistent about writing here, and to expand on what I cover, with the hope that I will continue to make more connections with people and ideas about life.

Taking Shape

When I was sixteen my parents gave me a membership to a gym called “Taking Shape” run by an talented trainer named Moses. It was a small gym in an office building, but I found a new world inside. I learned how strong I could be, and also how well I could relate to a different crowd, as I was usually the youngest person working out there. I would go there almost every week night and most Saturdays during the off season to hang out and workout.

Moses was a great man and a world class trainer. Before he opened up Taking Shape, he traveled the world working with elite athletes. He would come up with fun drills based on what events I was running or position I was playing in basketball. Sometimes he would take me on outings to get a running workout in, but since I was a sprinter, he would have me do drills up and down the hallway once the workday was over. The workouts were always varied and challenging, and I was ripped by the time I was seventeen.

All the people at the gym would get together once it closed at night and go to a nearby restaurant to eat. I liked the crowd. The people were in their thirties to forties, so at least twice my age, with experience to pass on, and I learned so much during that time. We had shirts that read “Created by God, Improved by Moses”. I met my running mentor, Steve, at that gym, the man who pushed me to try the 400 meter race after I had spent a season running just the 100 and 200 meters.

Moses got sick when I was going away to college. It was hard news to hear. I had written one of my college entry essays about him as a mentor. Here was a man who ate right, lived right, but still got stricken with disease. He would still show up to the gym, though not as often, and on my breaks from college I would go in for an hour a day to run on the treadmill, while he rested, so I still got to spend time with him.

A few semesters into college, Moses passed away. The gym members went to the service. Pat spoke. It chokes me up to think about it. Pat told me recently that Moses would be proud of me, how active I am and how persistently I pursue my fitness goals. We don’t get to keep everyone for as long as we like, but we get to carry on their legacy the best we can, and hope the message does not get weakened. Go- get fit, be strong, be the best you can be which is always good enough.