Will I Ever Compete Again?

One year ago today, I faced the biggest devastation of my life.

The 20 year relationship with my husband came crashing down.

My world stopped in a heartbeat.

The pain was poison in my veins.

Inconceivable and uncontrollable.

It caused any sign of joy to be stripped from my being.

There were days my heart was being crushed in a vice.

My chest ached from heaving with guttural cries.

My eyes were perpetually red and swollen from the endless tears.

The grief pouring out of me was torturous.

I didn’t recognise the empty soulless vision staring back at me from the mirror.

The life had been sucked out of me.

So as you can imagine, competing was not high on my list of priorities. However, running was. I knew from past experience how beneficial exercise is for my mental well being. So as hard as it was, I dragged my sorry arse out of bed EVERY day and laced up my boots. My mind and my body were tired, but I knew how much I needed it. My philosophy has always been, ‘The less I feel like it, the more I need it.’

In the beginning I was so distraught; I would only run by myself for fear of not stringing two words together without exploding into tears. Those early runs were cold, dark and extremely lonely. Very often my relentless tears would be streaming down my face with each step. I would run with my head down to hide from the outside world. Some days I would get home not even knowing where I had run or for how long (thank goodness for GPS watches).

Gradually as I felt stronger I would raise my head and run in the daylight. The benign smiles from other athletes were like heaven in my tumultuous tornado of emotion. If only they knew how much impact their simple gesture lightened my life.

Before too long I began to feel better, I was healing. Life began to expose a little colour to me and I was enjoying being outside rather than curled up in the foetal position under my covers. When I returned home from a run I had a little hope for light at the end of the dark tunnel. I have always looked at my run as a feel good, a natural high. Although it had been illusive for a time, I knew my runners high would return and I was fervently in search of it.

I started to run longer. It was like the washing machine of my mind. I would come home with clarity of thought and the intensity of my agonising emotion was tapering (pardon the pun).

Was I using running as my crutch? Absolutely! I rationalised it by saying, it’s better than playing the victim, feeling sorry for myself and comfort eating myself into the abyss. Running has always been a passion but now it was a necessity to get through my day. It also helped me sleep when the dark, threatening thoughts returned in the dead of night.

After six months some of my running buddies were asking what I was competing/ participating in next. They knew I loved to chase the podium and surely with all the kms I was pounding out, I was training for something. Yes indeed, my sanity! I was not interested in pushing myself hard, life was hard enough. I had lost my drive and motivation to beat anything but the demons. I had no desire at all to compete at all!

When I finally found the courage to run in groups again, I noticed the conversation helped me forget my woes. I would run for a couple of hours in a cheerful world full of colour and compassion. My friends were so encouraging and loving. Some days they would talk because they knew I couldn’t and other days they just listened. They were helping me find my way back.

Running was forming a new definition in my life. I had always run to see how far I could push myself, to see what mental limits I could smash and what else my body could achieve. I was always doing whatever it took to chase a PB. It was always a competition within my mind and my body. It has never been hard for me to put the work in physically, I JFDI!  I loved it. Now this was the furthest thing from my mind.

And for the first time I didn’t have the fight in me. This is when I knew running had become a new definition in my life. Each step was a vice, an outlet, an instrument to channel my peace. It was therapeutic in ways I had never imagined. It was my safe place. It helped me find my strong. Besides the curative company my friends had given me, running was the key to unlock the door to happiness again. Running is now my first go to if I am having a bad day (besides chocolate of course). When I feel the slightest bit of anxiety or I’ve had a stressful day at work, my SUUNTO is always charged and on the ready.

Each cleansing breath I take helps me find a new version of me. Finding myself is what I yearn. A solace overwhelms me out on the trails. Nature is my nurture. The sun refreshes me, the earth rejuvenates me and the water calms me. This is my heaven.

A year on, I am so grateful to be coming out the other side with my mind intact and my heart restored. Yes I have bad days and that is part of life for me for right now. But I have found my strong and loving my running again. It is a lifestyle that I want to be doing for a long time, not a fast time so….

Will I ever compete again?  I’m not sure if I need to……