You can run, but you can’t hide, so I give up for now. Why is it so simple for others to see, but so hard for me to accept, even when the equation is right there: Pain = No running/racing. Is it a girl thing? I’m not sure? But the men in my life seem to think it is easy. “STOP RUNNING”. It is not that easy. It feels like failure. I don’t like to give up. But I want to be running in the mountains for a long time yet. I have to “practise what I preach”. So this is it. Right here, right now, pen on paper. I will stop training until I get better. My mind has been stressed. I have continued to train in the gym; I have wanted desperately to run. But I haven’t allowed rest and recovery. I can’t race with no running and I can’t run with pain.
As the waves crashed onto my sandy feet on the seaside of Buzios I smiled. I took a deep breathe and let everything go. I made the decision. And since making the decision, even through the tears, I have felt a sense of relief. My body and mind have relaxed. I look forward to different things in the day. My adrenaline and endorphins will be sparked with a month of travel with friends and the running family to new and old places – Rio, Buzios, Bariloche, San Fran and LA – before heading to NZ for the summer. Where I can swim in my seas, walk on my mountains and reconnect my roots.
Next year I will start again. Ready, better prepared and fresh.
Real words from ‘Born to Run’ – Christopher McDougall ‘There was some kind of connection between capacity to love and the capacity to love running. The engineering was certainly the same: both depended on loosening your grip on your own desires, putting aside what you wanted and appreciating what you had, being patient and forgiving and undemanding’.