Superiorday, September 11-12

  • Not sure how many Larabars, probably within reason
  • Honey-sweetened all-natural peanut butter
  • some chews while attempting to pace

Sleep:7.25 hours in bed, 1015p-530a, 88% quality. Slept really well, given a strange bed in a strange place.

Healthy Movement: Felt pretty good all day, while crewing. Didn't do any PT, but the core felt better than it has since the run in which it went south, so I continued to not-do it; left hamstring was great, although I didn't stretch it to a point where it might have told me otherwise. But while pacing, the body let me down in almost every way it could. Very, very, very frustrating.

Fun & Play: All day(s) in the woods, with gorgeously perfect weather. Time on the shore, listening to the lake's secrets. Hopscotching my bestie to help him through his mostest incrediblest race evah. Going back to help HH through her 50-miler, delivering hugs & love & wiping away her tears. New friends. Old friends. New friends who are freaking trail legends, and incredibly kind souls. DOGS! I wanted to steal Talla (Tallah? Thalla?) something fierce; possibly the best dog I've ever met. The nature and the people filled my bucket.

Stress Management/Temperance: Despite all of the goodness, I spent the second half of this day (technically all day Saturday, I guess) hating my body. So sad, so frustrated, just defeated by its repeated failures.

I tried to look at this with the viewpoint of me clearly being a legit athlete, injuries like this don't happen to couch potatoes, etc, but it didn't work, because I spent the day surrounded by athletes, and they all seemed capable of trucking along through mile after mile. I heard war stories that made me question the sanity of some continuing onward, while being infinitely impressed with the mental strength they displayed in doing so.

And I feel I showed zero mental strength. I knew that I physically couldn't run through this IT band problem, that was simply not an option. I didn't feel mentally weak because of that. BUT, it has taken me down so completely, so often, that I just lost all hope that I can ever truly be a runner, and that sent the brain straight to rock bottom. Broken.

Add that to physical exhaustion, and I confess that I was less than the person I want to be. I was able to show enthusiasm & was genuinely happy to be with my seldom-seen trail peeps; thankful that socializing kept me boosted. But had they not been there, I know I would have curled up into a ball of self-pity, and completely self-destructed.

I was trying to do one of my most favoritest things, run with my bestie to help him achieve greatness, and it broke me. Trying to help my friend gave me a third injury. The unfairness of it just fills my throat with pain, even days later. I am broken physically, and I am broken mentally.

All I could see was my Fall, the very best season to be a runner, spent missing out on all those hours with my beloveds. During the run (okay, the trudge) to the A/S, I could not cry: you can't see rocks & roots! So I set it aside, mostly. Then, immediately post-run, the focus was on BK & DQ, so all the following hours that I spent crewing alone, cold & tired & in the dark, there was no one to help me save my brain from itself. It got very, very, very low. It remains there.

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