perspective
Life tends to be so ironic at times, it’s hard to not take notice.
I started getting this blog set up for publishing at the beginning of the year when I had that little ‘extra time’, having spent the Christmas holidays in London and not doing much running due to this ‘sticky’ ITB injury. At the time I had probably reset my expectations for recovery about twice or three times. And I thought that was rough and too much already. That’s what resetting is all about, you think it will take x amount of time, initially days then weeks, then you lose count. And may have to reset again, and again.
The purpose of publishing the blog was to write more about this incredible journey. I almost regret to only have documented so little of what it has been so far. There I was, in this extended low, feeling like a total imposter and falling in the ego trap telling me that ‘I need to get better’ to have something to say and write about. To be back in full training. ‘Am I even a triathlete right now if I’m not running?’
And yet all this time I knew there was one thing I should be doing, and that is this: write about it. I resisted it for weeks, but at least I kept working on the technicalities of owning a website which still felt like I was honouring the commitment.
It is now March. M-a-r-c-h.
Time works in incredible ways and it is very hard, if not impossible, to shortcut its effects. Common knowledge, I know. The last few months I have been through an emotional ride of total agony, determination, frustration, hope, disappointment, mental breakdown, hopelessness, apathy, acceptance, piece of mind, to some hope again.
I am now at a point where there is STILL total uncertainty of my running comeback timeline and any plans for the triathlon season. And the worst is yet to come: everyone kicking off the one thing I love the most – racing, with me ‘stuck behind’, watching. It’s not the first time and I now know I will be graceful about it.
Because through this rough period I have found:
Acceptance of the situation I am in and the nature of its uncertainty. This is a very hard point to get to, for me at least. Hindsight is great, but nobody tells you from the beginning this will roll like this and for this long, especially when the injury itself is not serious or widely known to take so long to recover. ‘It depends on the person’, you see. It’s like a lottery ticket.
Perspective, yet again of why I do this and what I want from the sport and this process. I AM in for the long-term, I know that better now. For the first time I see how it matters. How important it is to give myself the time I always felt I don’t have as I started ‘so late’ (while being completely aware that this is totally relevant and personal). How hopeful this makes me feel, and it fills me with hope despite being so stuck at this moment in time.
I was also very surprised to discover I still enjoy pushing myself through the swim and bike workouts even if I know that a race may not be in the horizon soon. There was a point when I thought ‘what’s the point?’ and that was quite sad and scary if I’m honest, to think that I could lose my motivation. But it was probably part of the overall theme when I was very hung up on the impact of the injury, the goals slipping away and some sort of ‘need’ to feel sorry for myself and just not being ready to reframe.
It is fascinating to think about how everything (literally) comes from the ego. Not just the negative reaction to what is happening, but even more so the judgement of that reaction! Aware as I am, why am I not able to manage it ‘better’, ‘quicker’, ‘more gracefully’. But at the same time feeling totally unwilling to do it, at least initially, or each time it has gone wrong again (for example when the injury flares up after some progress in running). Perhaps I’m only human and I need to mourn and feel sorry for myself, for a bit. Perhaps I need to work on this more. I thought I learnt my lesson when I went through RED-S recovery, but it seems we forget and want to take the same lessons again and again (until we manage to not let the ego ‘puff up’ during the highs).
In the end, it all comes back to self-love, something I struggle to apply spontaneously. It’s as if my brain is wired this way. Like I have this need to always striving for something, wanting to see the progress (which has to be linear, of course), achieve something, move on to the next.
In some defence, one has to recognise that a lot of what we do (putting so much effort for long periods of time for marginal gains) relies heavily on one thing, at least for me - building momentum. And it’s typically when we get this momentum going that we are unstoppable and look like lunatics to anyone observing from the outside but momentum keeps us going. And it is usually at these points, when we’ve got going, when we feel unbreakable, that we do break, and then there is this time it takes for this momentum to slow down and dissipate to catch up with what’s going on. It’s just a painful process but kind of necessary. Otherwise I don’t see the alternative. If I go ‘lightly’ about everything to protect myself, I won’t be able to do it as I want. It simply goes both ways.
But to gain this long-term perspective is a gift I believe, and it feels like a relief. ‘To give yourself the time’.
In the meantime, swimming and cycling are in full swing and I’m back to the gym for a third attempt to get back to running, on the treadmill this time. Saturday long swims are now frequently at the 5K mark and some long rides to get the headspace. You can check out my long ride to Henley last weekend, a rare solo one but what a route!
