It’s Thursday, or “throwback Thursday,” as many of you will recognize via Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook. I am writing not with the intention to share photos from high school or childhood, nor to look back on races of the past. I have always been a fan of these things, don’t get me wrong. The thing is, every day is throwback Thursday for me. One thing most people don’t know about me until they have known me for awhile is that I have an…interesting memory. I think we all have selective memories; mine just happens to select to remember a lot of details about a lot of things. It is a blessing and a curse, but one thing is certain: it’s difficult to turn off. I’ve looked for a switch and couldn’t find one, so I guess I just have to be content with it. “Remembering” and “feeling” are two separate things, so it’s not like I can’t “let go” of things or not think about them for a very, very long time. They’re there somewhere, though.
This past weekend included an important part of my training for my second marathon, as well as watching and reading dozens of videos, articles, and comments related to the USATF Indoor Track and Field Championships. As I do more and more successful workouts and long runs, accept “good lucks” and other positive comments from customers at work and friends in daily life when asked questions about my running lately, my mind can’t help but “throw back” to times when things weren’t so great. The feelings are far removed and not worth going back to “re-feel,” but they might have been necessary evils that paved the way to where I am today. If I had not endured those tough times, physically and emotionally, maybe I wouldn’t be training as smart as I am. Maybe I wouldn’t appreciate every run like I do today. Maybe I wouldn’t understand the struggles of new and injured runners, competitive and recreational alike, and consequently be less relatable from both professional and personal standpoints. Someday, as a physical therapist, I want to be able to say, “I’m training for ____” or “My PR is ____” when asked and have those statements be means by which people will be inspired, not defeated. I didn’t start this blog until after all those struggles were over, and since then I only wrote about one significant injury. Those who knew me in college know that had I written a blog back then, it would contain totally different content. To give you an idea: it was really easy for me to pick a random entry in my old running log and find this just now:
Runners can go ahead and say that an injury doesn’t affect their overall well-being. I’ll call bullshit. It’s going to happen, at some point. You can’t separate running from life all the time. I say that’s okay. Looking back at these kinds of days – so frequent in college – I understand that they made me stronger. Stronger emotionally, mentally, physically. Do I wish they didn’t happen? Well yeah, that would have been nice. But they did, and I am okay with it. The reason I wanted to get out some words about this is because a lot of people who might meet me now and talk about running, or read my blog, might not understand that for every run I do that is “fast,” or “easy” or “great,” there were about a hundred awful runs, days in the pool, and days in pain for every one. So, I guess my point is, cliche as it sounds, giving up is about as silly as not letting Gabe Grunewald race at Indoor Worlds. That’s all.
Oh, but here’s Kara Goucher at Homecoming. #tbt