“Dogs are wise.  They crawl away into a quiet corner and lick their wounds and do not rejoin the world until

they are whole once more.”  ~ Agatha Christie

 

DID NOT FINISH.

Aside from whatever physical [limitation] that caused the medal miss, DNFs crush mentally.  Internally, deep.

“You did your best.”  Works for most my friends – unfortunately, it provides ME little comfort.

I hear the words.  Everyone has a bad day.  140+ marathons, law of averages if nothing else.

However, for me – if I quit, I’m broken.  Tears away at the soul.

I’m a middle to back-of-the-pack runner, not super competitive BUT I finish.  I marathon’d with cancer, thru chemo.  No matter the challenge – inside, I honestly 100% believe I will succeed.  Never any doubt.  SOLID inner confidence.

DNF is like a death.  I cry.  I grieve.  I sulk.  I get quiet.  Can’t see a way out.

How did your 50-mile race go?  I own it, I answer.  Easy flat course, perfect weather, still not my day.  I failed.

Not my time to finish 50.

 

The sun rises.  Geese resettled on Hecla – this year’s goslings expected in weeks.  Ro forces me outside.  HE’S not grieving.  He’s thinking rabbits, squirrels, what’s in my food bowl.

Pistol was an easy course – lotta laps, lotta walkers but an overnight run.

Change.  Fails can do that too.  Shake up the routine.  Training programs get stagnant.

Done grieving.  Embrace the suck.

Hiatal hernia – it’s not terminal.  Follow-up appointment, cancelled.  Surgical consultation, cancelled.  BOTTLES of pills discarded.  Supposed to help – I still DNF’d.  I still puked.

Another new journey, another transformation.  Taking control.

 

Controlling body thru diet, strict food plan.  I am my own best advocate.

Small meals work – small meals the immediate future.

And miles, lotta miles.

Done with all the advice.  Everyone’s an expert.  I believe in ME more.

75 miles – every week, now to Memorial Day – because I WANT to run, because I NEED to put in the time.  Not penance for Pistol – but rather, a mental need to KNOW/to BELIEVE I can again.

Next 26.2, Saturday.  Carmel, Indiana.  Saturday March 30^th.  Monthly streak lives or dies in Carmel, Indiana.

Wounds licked.  Out of my quiet corner.  It’s time to marathon again.

I can.  I will.  I believe.

Absolutely anything is possible.

 

 

 

May you be filled with loving Kindness.  May you be well.  May you be Peaceful and at ease.  May you by Happy.