Chasing dreams and goals can come with some pretty high highs, and heartbreakingly low lows. Training hard to reach a goal only to end up injured and sidelined on race day can feel like a bad break-up. In 22 years of running, I have had my fair share of heartbreak due to injury. My laundry list includes; a partially torn hip flexor, and partially torn achilles tendon, a sacral stress fracture, five (you read that right, effing 5 all in the same metatarsal too) metatarsal stress fractures - 2 complete breaks, and numerous little bouts of tendonitis. If I told you I gracefully swept through these injuries, my pants would be on fire, because I would be a big liar. I cried, threw fits, took it out on people around me, over indulged, and eventually, strong emphasis on eventually, realized that losing my shit wasn’t helping anything. Some of the injuries were avoidable, others were a part of the process.
So it happens - an injury, an illness, rock bottom. What’s the hardest thing about hitting this low? It’s not the climb back up; no the climb is what we yearn for, the ability to push, to be in control. The hardest thing is the unknown, the uncertainty, the fear of what if this isn’t temporary. What if tomorrow doesn’t bring improvement? What if the best is in the rear view mirror?