I completed my first marathon in February and have since been on an injury recovery journey. I have made tons of progress and I am really proud of what I have accomplished over the last few months. The past few days, though, were notably difficult.
On Saturday I woke up to do one of the more challenging runs in my recovery plan, and I was not feeling it. I focused on the task at hand and used my skills to promote a positive mindset. I did my warmup, put on my shoes, grabbed my hydration, and headed outside. I immediately did not feel strong in my body, and it only got worse from there. I felt tired and depleted, and ultimately cut the run short and headed home.
Then I began to struggle emotionally and mentally. I had thoughts of judgment and criticism, and I was flooded with inaccurate beliefs about my running future. Once I got home I laid down, put one hand on my stomach and the other on my heart, took some deep breaths, and repeated to myself: progress is not linear. It is all fun and games talking about how progress is not linear until the progress actually becomes nonlinear.
I did what I could to self-soothe and add more truthful thoughts to the unhelpful narrative, but even with the skills, I did not necessarily feel better. I just noticed the intensity of the emotion come down enough to switch gears. Given that morning, I decided to rest the remainder of the weekend and try again on Monday.
Monday came. The puppies woke me an hour before my alarm. After taking care of them I debated whether to try again. Should I go or take another rest day? What if I use the treadmill so the heat does not get to me? I feel too tired to do anything. But I have goals, I need to be tough and get this done. That back and forth went on for a good thirty minutes until I finally decided to run.
I completed my warmup, put on my shoes, grabbed my hydration, and headed outside, just like I do every time. Like Saturday, I started and immediately felt awful. It felt like gravity was working overtime, my injuries were flaring, and I could not do it.
Tears. I imagine someone out there has some cute ring camera footage of me crying outside their house. I stood there for a couple of minutes and cried, then debated: suffer and push through, or go home?
There are many times when I think it is fine, even beneficial, to embrace the suck and make it happen. Usually those are times when I have a good support system to suffer alongside, and a mental and emotional spirit to rally my body forward. I had neither that day. My physical, emotional, and mental tanks were near empty. So I went home.
This time, on the way home, I was not consumed with judgment and criticism. I thought: I am proud of myself that I even tried. After Saturday, it was brave to give it another go. I had awareness beyond the immediate moment, too. It is just running. I am a recreational athlete. If it is not fun, it is time to reflect and re-evaluate. And I validated my emotions. I have invested a lot of time and money into running and my running health, so it makes sense that I would be upset about back-to-back incomplete runs. And still, it is all okay. My worth and my values go beyond running.
I share this for a few reasons. First, I like to pull back the curtain and show you that even your psychologist has to imperfectly practice the skills and does not always have it together. I am human and I experience suffering too.
Second, self-compassion is never the wrong move. It can feel strange, and it is so important to hold yourself through hard moments. I feel cared for when I put my hand over my heart and say kind things to myself, even when I do not fully believe them yet.
Third, progress is not linear, whether physical, mental, or relational, and I truly empathize when the nonlinear parts arrive. Everything is contextual and relative, so try to accept the present moment for what it is and zoom out to see the bigger picture.