For 100M last Saturday morning, I felt like Superwoman.
I was running out of the final turn and into the straight-a-way of my fourth and final 400M lap for time, the event for day 2 of the running themed weekend for The Biscay Coaching Olympics, and let myself lift off and run like I did from the lunch tables to the playground back in third grade, an all-out sprint with complete tunnel vision to be the first to reach the swing set. I ran that lap five seconds faster than the previous three, (none of them were my fastest ever, the splits are not impressive), but that last one felt like I was finally opening up, like my stiff and wobbly right leg was back in action, and my body clicked into to what it knows and loves best, running hard.
Cool down leaping fun after smashing our Mile For Time event on Friday with my teammates, Jess Zaiss and Lynne Fiedler. Photo courtesy of Terri Cisneros.
That following Sunday, for our final event in the Biscay Coaching Olympics, I ran a supposed fast 10K, twenty-five laps around the track. Sadly, after a two and a half mile warm-up, and decently paced first mile, my right leg started to ache, and my heart started to sink. It felt like my hamstring was detaching from my body; tearing further away from my glute with every stride, and my speed slowing down with every lap. I almost quit. In fact, I did stop, but after a few minutes I re-calibrated a new plan to simply complete each lap vs. running them as quickly as planned, and started to run the twenty-five laps all over again. I knew I wouldn’t earn a ton of points for my team, but I wanted to deliver something.
Hannah's 21st birthday bash in February.
It’s crazy to think that nearly six months ago we were celebrating my step-daughter, Hannah’s twenty-first birthday crammed into her friend’s UCLA off-campus tiny apartment with a dozen of her friends, the day after I wrote and posted an honest, yet self-pitying post about how disappointed I was with life choices I had made, and that I just couldn’t quite lift my head above the water line to make any substantial progress in meeting my own standards, or what I believed others set for me. The response I received from that post was overwhelming. It proved to me that we all have unique measures of success for ourselves. What I perceived as “not enough” was way beyond what others perceived as success, meanwhile people who in my eyes were at the pinnacle of success shared they had insecurities, too. Ahh, humanity, we are a fickle bunch.
I was also in incredible running shape back then, but I couldn’t let myself enjoy it.
Not too shabby for my last long training run before the LA Marathon.
I was aware that I was running well, especially for so early in the year, but it still wasn’t good enough, and the combination of emotional and physical fatigue took me down. I kept hoping that running the LA Marathon would bring me back to life, that it would help me tap into my special sauce, the joy of running long distances, and it did, but not without a slug of satire.
I injured my right leg at some point before or after passing the Disney Hall in downtown LA during the race. I still finished it, albeit embarrassingly in a time thirty to forty minutes later than I wanted to, but I crossed the line, accepted my medal, and hobbled to the car next to my husband in tears, pain, and disbelief, repeating to myself, “What happened?”
Since that day in early March, life as we know has completely changed.
Marion took this photo on Monday, March 9th, 2020.
Personally, since the onslaught of the COVID-19 pandemic I have gained much more appreciation for what I used to take for granted, i.e grocery store aisles full of toilet paper, rooms full of people, and pain-free running.
Conservatively, ninety-three percent of my runs since the LA Marathon have pinged somewhere on the pain spectrum. Nevertheless, the few that haven’t set off alarms, have lent more joy and rejuvenation than hundreds that have only made me hot and tired. It is my Pandemic-themed goal to never take a pain-free run, fast or slow, for granted ever again.
Minutes after running that fast "Superwoman" infused last 100M on Saturday with my teammates, Lynne Fiedler, Jess Zaiss, and Bridget Haga.
I am nowhere near in the shape now that I was six months ago, but I ran pretty fast last Saturday, which is promising. True, my leg hurt a little, (a lot) on Sunday, but then it bounced back and felt really good on Monday. So, it’s all fine, miraculous really, because the slow build back from injury these many months has made me believe that failures and successes are equally enticing to keep trying, learning from, and appreciating the pain, power, and freedom that comes with pushing my body each day that I am lucky enough to wake up for and live.
Let’s GO!
The song and video choice this week is a classic and fitting tune from the Foo Fighters, Walk, that I believe will make you smile.:)