I wrote this post on Sunday night…hence the weird time references.
Some days I feel like a fraud.
Who is this guy?
What the hell is he talking about?
Does he even know what he is saying?
Today I was overcome with the sense that I’ve been faking it for the last 15 months – ever since, well, Boston 2011…hell, maybe even before then; that I’ve been nothing but a shadow of something that once was…a shade. I thought I had rallied hard for 12 weeks at the beginning of this year for Sugarloaf 2012, but looking back I wonder if I really did. When I came up short at the finish line, instead of being driven to work harder, I simply wanted…
There were commitments though – there was the Green Mountain Relay in June, where I tried to live up to my billing as one of the faster runners on the team and proceeded to puke throughout my first leg and then get passed by a one legged middle aged woman in my second leg. The overall experience was a lot of fun, but quite honestly, between my puking sessions during my first leg, I was pretty sure this was it for me with running. I’ve got two more running commitments on the calendar, both related to Autism Speaks – the Boston 13.1 Half-Marathon in September and then the New York City Marathon in November. After that? I have no clue? I must admit I am enjoying the group runs I am leading for the Team Up with Autism Speaks runners on Sundays, but I still haven’t begun my training cycle for New York…time is ticking.
After Sugarloaf, I tricked myself into believing that I just needed to take a week off from running to let my body recover, never mind that I had a 200-mile relay the next month I should have been training for. The week turned into many weeks. I’d throw in an occasional run to tell myself I was still running, but the runs became less frequent and much shorter. They started to feel so insignificant that I stopped logging them.
I just stopped.
Any runner who has religiously logged their miles will tell you just how important that simple act of logging the miles is. It gives substance to what we have just done. It gives us a place to go to re-live miles run but also inspires us to add more.
I stopped logging my miles.
I just didn’t care.
I stopped writing regularly too – if you go back through my blog posts, you will see large gaps in time after Sugarloaf…maybe even before then.
We all need a break now and then, but this felt different. This feels different. Believe me, I still want to make my way back to Boston, to toe the line in Hopkinton. I still want to run 40 to 60 to 80 miles a week. I just don’t have the drive anymore.
And because of that, I’ve felt like a fraud as of late.
And it’s creeping into the rest of my life. I feel like I’ve been mailing it in everywhere, that I’ve given up on whatever dreams I may have had as a younger man or even that man just a few years younger than me.
I want, I want, I want…I just don’t have the drive. I can’t get out of neutral; even when I do manage to get it into drive, I end up just spinning my wheels goings nowhere.
My weight has come up 10 -15 pounds (depending on the day), my legs have slowed, my hair has suddenly greyed rapidly (though it’s still there), I’m tired and I’m weak.
I know what should be done.
I can see myself from when this blog first started looking at me through time in disbelief, wondering What the Frak is happening to you, man???
I should call a frakkin’ Wah-mbulance, believe me, I know.
By most standards, my life is pretty good. I need to shut the frak up.
Yesterday (Saturday) my friend Maddy posted on dailymile that she had run a marathon – not an official one mind you, but wanting to make sure she could still do one, she went out and ran a little over 26.2 miles. The part that absolutely killed me was that she did it in 3:24.
Right…that’s 1 minutes slower than what I had considered my gutsy run at Sugarloaf – my second fastest marathon ever, and she just cruised around town and did it just to see if she could. It both depressed and inspired me. To show you just how much of a badass Maddy is, I will tell you that just a couple of hours ago (Sunday evening) she posted that she had run another 20 miles today (in 2:40). She is a bad. ass! (I can’t hate her though…she’s a total cutie-pie!)
Maybe this was God sending me a message?
I don’t remember the last truly long run I did. It may well be that Sugarloaf, way back in May, was my last long run over 13.1 miles (of course if I had been logging my miles I’d be able to tell you!). Maybe the running gods were trying to remind me through Maddy that the feeling of speed and strength and generally all around badassness comes at a price, that price being miles, dedication, desire, drive.
It all comes back to want and drive.
Right now I’m sitting on a whole crapload of want but I’m staring at an empty roll of desire.