My Running Life - Revisited

I've been saying for months now that "this weekend, I'm going to dust off my blog and commit to writing regularly."  And in true-life fashion, "this weekend" always seems to be too full of distractions for me to ever get around to it.  Between long runs, family visits and dusting under the treadmill (seriously, how does dirt even get under there?), I've managed to consistently put off the last thing on my to-do list for the year.

Until tonight, anyway, when I apparently felt the need to disgorge a year's worth of life.

Since my last blog post, nearly everything in my life has changed. I've moved twice, started a new job, burned through two relationships, changed my diet at least three times, and changed my hairstyle... well, a few times at least.  But one thing remains the same: my love of running.

This was actually the year that I nearly gave up running altogether.  In a bout of broken-hearted depression, it seemed there was nothing good in my life.  I'd started the year with high hopes to train hard and maybe hit a BQ at the Key Bank City Marathon in May, and then see where my running journey would take me for the rest of the year.  But even early in the year, my training flagged and nearly stopped.  Instead of a BQ, my poor training and emotional state handed me GI problems and a finish time barely under five hours.  At the Moosalamoo Ultra in Goshen, where I'd earlier hoped to finish in the top 5 for the 36-miler, I instead dropped to the 14 mid-race and went home utterly defeated.

I'd made up my mind that I wouldn't do any more events, and might not even run anymore.  It wasn't my legs that couldn't do the mileage, though; it was my mind.  Every time I thought about running, I'd think, "it's all that I have.  It's the only thing that works." But instead of invigorating me, it made me resentful.  There are many runners out there who find happiness in running, but I'm not one of them.  I can't seem to find the energy to run when my heart is too heavy, and breathing is hard when I'm one heartbeat away from a bout of sloppy sobbing.  The solitude of running, instead of being restorative, was the very thing that caused me pain.  I was longing for friends to run with, to find connection through the activity that I love most, and instead it continued to isolate me from most of the people in my very limited social circle.

It was during a therapy session that I came to the realization that I had the ability to solve my own problem.  I knew that other runners exist in the world, that what I needed to feel fulfilled and energized was a community of people who value the same things I do, and realized that if I wanted to build community around running, I would need to take active steps to make it happen.  So I did.

First, I created the Middlebury Trail Enthusiasts (MTE), a Meetup group focused on exploring the trails in and around my new hometown.  The response was fantastic, and I almost immediately found myself immersed in a group of warm, supportive and adventurous runners.  No longer did I feel like a freak when I talked passionately about running.  I discovered people around me who know what "heel drop" is and understand the difference between pace and speed.  I found runners who push my limits, and others even less experienced than myself who seem open to my advice.  I found people who love being outdoors and value an active lifestyle.  In short, I found the community that I'd been longing for.

While MTE was spinning up, I also found - or more properly, rediscovered - another reminder of what running means to me.  Near the end of August, my chief instigator messaged me to say, "There are only 7 spots left for the VT50. You'd better get on it if you're going to! I'll pace you!"  I almost tripped over myself trying to get to the computer to register.  What happened to "not doing events anymore" you ask?  I have no idea.  It had simply evaporated.  So with only a few weeks left to actually train, having nearly DNF'd a marathon and technically having DNF'd the only other race I'd started ...  I signed up.

How did it go?

It was the most glorious, beautiful, painful and affirming run of my life.  I can hardly wait to do it again next year.

More recently, I created the Facebook group Vermont Trail and Ultrarunners, hoping to expand this amazing sense of community all across Vermont.  The response on FB has also been amazing, and I hope it will continue to grow as time goes on.  We live in an amazing place with abundant opportunities to explore and share adventures from the TAM to the Long Trail, and so much more besides.  With the support and encouragement of all my newfound friends, I hope to make 2015 a year worth blogging.

The finish time shown is from the start of the MTB race. My final time was 10:52.