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My Worst Race…

…To date.

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And you know what? It happens.

I spent a lot of Saturday beating myself up mentally for failing on all levels after the race. I just couldn’t fathom that after six half marathons and a bevy of other races that I could go in and do anything other than dominate. I hope that this situation isn’t like what they say about New Years Eve. You know, “how you spend NYE is how you’re going to spend the rest of the year.”

I know, I’m being dramatic.

Let’s back up to Friday night. I came home from work and relaxed. I had a traditional pasta dinner and I was in bed by 10pm. This is textbook race preparation.

For whatever reason, it didn’t work for me. I think my body prefers I get a little rowdy and test myself by seeing how well I can do while battling a hangover or semi-dead legs from dancing.

Saturday morning, I woke up and did my usual pre-race things. We were out the door by 5:15am.

Everything was going so smoothly. Katie, Amanda, Chris and I all hung out before the race. I ran into my dear friend Kevin and caught up with him. I was in excellent spirits crossing the start line.

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As I passed the first mile marker, I knew it was not my day to run. My feet were like two heavy weights that I couldn’t pick up off the ground. My body felt unusually tired. I had fallen behind and had begun to convince myself that I was the weakest link, that I couldn’t keep up and that I sucked. I don’t know where the negativity came from – I am usually such a positive and optimistic person.

I could not shake the negative thoughts.

I had been dreading the hill between mile five and six all throughout training and even moreso on race day. When it finally came time to go up, I wanted to quit. I was done. I waved goodbye to my potential PR and decided to buck the fuck up and just finish the damn race.

I honestly don’t remember the last half the race except for when my knee started to hurt. And then it started hurting more so I walked. The last three and a half miles or so, I walked as fast as I could while texting. Yup.

I crossed the finish line cursing the race when really I was cursing my brain.

I am smart enough to know that one bad race will not dictate the rest of the year. But, can we all agree that it really freaking sucks to do all that training and to come out feeling like it was for nothing?

I also truly know that this race was not for nothing. Since December, I have been working with two of my friends, Katie and Amanda, helping them train for this race. They showed up every week for the long runs despite unfavorable weather conditions (I’m looking at you Polar Vortex – all versions!) and committed to the training. They dominated their first half marathons and I am so proud of them both. Like over the moon proud.

After having a few days to process the race, I’m thinking sometimes it’s more about the journey than the destination. Not all races can be a personal best but there is so much more about a race than a finishing time. Training for this race allowed me to grow closer to two wonderful ladies. The race itself humbled me – every half marathon I’ve done until this one has resulted in a personal best.
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How do you handle negative thoughts while running?

What is your least favorite race? Why?


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