After 3+ months of no
running due to an injury, little activity with lots of Netflix, I finally
dipped my toes back into running on a very cold January day with a two mile jog
to my favorite park in Astoria. I stopped in the Socrates Sculpture Park to admire
the winter-y scenery along the East River. At that moment, after months of
missing out on early runs, jogs past the Christmas windows on 5th Ave, and most
importantly sitting out the NYC Marathon, I was at peace with everything that
happened. I've always heard, "everything happens for a reason," and I
believe that if you slow down long enough to understand it all, it's definitely
true.
Sometimes
you just lose the spark. I admit my training last summer and fall for the NYC
Marathon was anything but fun. Slogging through the heat on long runs, waking
up early after working exhausting weddings, and giving up on social time just
was no longer fun for me. I was wholly committed to running the marathon, but
not as excited to do the work as I wanted to be. As a person who is driven by
passion, it was hard for me to force myself to do the long runs that were a
necessary part of training. Ironically, during the last 20 mile run of my
training, which also happened to be one of the most fun and best times of my
training cycle, I suffered a stress fracture. It was almost like the universe
was telling me "wait, not yet." I deferred the marathon and struggled
through several physically and mentally painful weeks leading up to the day I
wouldn't be toeing the line in Staten Island.
However,
the universe is always right in its timing. My parents flew in for marathon
weekend and we had the time of our lives eating, drinking, seeing a Broadway
show and ultimately cheering at the marathon. Originally, I had wanted to be as
far away from the marathon course as possible on the big day, but my family
urged me to attend and cheer on my friends and teammates. We went and saw the
finish line the day before the race, and they hugged me as I cried for a few
moments when the realization hit me that this wasn't my year to cross it.
On
Marathon morning we staked out a spot in Brooklyn and cheered on the elites and
the throngs of runners. It really hit me when my training buddy Evi passed and
I cried a few tears. The day couldn't have gone better as everyone had the race
of their lives and I got to be with my teammates cheering on everyone's races.
That day sparked my love of running once again.
Cheering in Brooklyn
When
you really love something and can't do it, it hurts, but I think it also
refills your tank. My running tank was pretty close to empty. Taking three
months off to see friends I hadn't been able to make time for, actively
pursuing my yoga practice, and traveling to Costa Rica on a retreat, all added
fuel to my tank. Missing out on group runs, cheering friends in the
Philadelphia Marathon, and having a ton of quality time on my couch truly
allowed me the time to embrace my pain and understand how much I loved the
sport. I had been moaning and groaning on early mornings, slogging through long
runs, and counting down every mile until the runs were over. Ultimately, my
injury was necessary for my running. I wouldn't have loved every moment of the
NYC Marathon and maybe have even decided to continue running if I hadn't had
the time to reflect while recovering from my injury.
Whippets Cheer Station in the Bronx
Therefore,
I now embrace my running, and even more so the health of my running than ever
before. I have learned I need to mentally be into it to enjoy it. I need to
take care of my body and follow the plan that is best for me, even if others
may be able to run more miles or faster than me. The longevity of running is
truly based on the way you treat yourself and I want to treat myself well.
For now
I have lots to look forward to and many more miles to run!
