I Love That I Keep Making the Same Mistakes
And why it’s okay. Fresh starts are both exhilarating and difficult.
I am always surprised at how much I look forward to returning to the roads after a long lay-off or injury. Without fail, it always feels like I’m “taking up jogging” or “having a go at this running thing.”
Nothing could be further from the truth of course. I am not a Covid newcomer and I consider myself a slightly-better-than-intermediate runner. I may be slow but I know my stuff.
I was guaranteed, however, to make a few newbie mistakes, as I began this week with — oh, I don’t know — restart number 83.
Today will mark my third run back after a rather dramatic two months of lower back strain. Dramatic because having an actor’s imagination, I was convinced I’d injured something I can’t pronounce. I thought sacral stress fracture sounded great when I said it out loud. I stopped saying it out loud when I realized many people have, and are suffering from, just such a thing and joking about it was probably inappropriate.
After scores of stops and starts in the sport for many reasons over the last (almost) 40 years, you’d think I’d be able to avoid the common pitfalls and trappings of starting back up on the roads.
Of course not.
Sunday, I loped a little over two miles on the treadmill for my first run. Or really fast walk. My inner dialog included nuggets like Nice and easy. No more than 70%. Talk test? Check. Mid foot tripod strike. Check. Cadence. Check. Hands up, chin up. Check. I felt alive, energized, activated. I was back and it was good to be back.
Yesterday, I took it outside with the dog. Still nice and easy but, what’s that? Was I wearing a slightly faster shoe? Check. Was I wearing tights instead of sweats? Check. Was I going a LOT faster than I was yesterday on the tread? Check. Did I make an unmistakable series of mistakes in the roughly 31 minutes it took me to slog thru my usual 5k route? You betcha — checkmate!
So, here lies the rub; why oh why do I make the same ridiculous decisions in the same situations time after time? I am an experienced runner and racer, so what gives? I know this is a question for far more intelligent behavioral scientists and possibly even addiction experts. I’m sure the answer touches on aspects of the same neural activity that they study (to an extent).
I’m reminded of a joke I used to tell anyone that shared their journey to quitting smoking with me. I had failed for years, like millions before me to quit successfully and I found it hysterical to say, “Talk to me, I’m an expert. I did it 14 times!” Funny, not funny.
My best guess is that my competitive nature, athletic history and pure ego confabulate and plot (against me) to have me run as fast as possible! Whatever the consequences! Nature tells me “You got this!”, History says “You’ll be faster now than you’ve ever been!”, and Ego blabbers stuff like “Of course you can turn a 22 minute 5,000 after 2 months off”, as if it’s nothing at all. Ego has evidently forgotten that I’m a few months shy of 60, but emotionally still waiting on my 10th birthday.
Thankfully, my desire is always there and that’s a wonderful thing. My physical strength has returned, and if only at about 80%, at least I can run. Also, I know only full well that I should slowly and gradually get back into a rhythm and a roll — and not do too much too soon.
The problem is within the run. That’s when the nutty decision making comes to the fore. Decisions made by those other folks in my head; those running demons…the playful endorphins that bounce around when I’m feeling my inner Gebrselassie. Suddenly, I develop a little forward lean and go up on my toes. My hands get higher and my elbows start flying back like wings.
There’s no better feeling in the world when that happens. If you love running like I do, you know it well and you know it’s hard to describe. You also know that as a result of those great “runner’s high” moments, it’s difficult to touch your knees the next day, let alone your toes.
Starting over is ALWAYS new. Which makes it exciting and fresh and, even better, unknown. Like a great mystery, the idea of lining up at my next race with the anticipation of an undetermined result seems nutty to me. But I do it over and over. We all do. For the rush and the fun for sure. But part of the drug is the unknown, isn’t it?
I can recall feeling fear of the unknown when I first started running. But now I embrace it. I remember being embarrassed as I trudged along in a big sweatshirt and basketball shoes, running under cover of night. But now I flaunt my runner-ness. I’ve been shy in the social running department (mostly because I’m shy) but as I’ve aged, I’ve softened and now I’d welcome an invite to a group or a team.
Perhaps sharing these all-too-common “runnundrums” with you will help me to a smarter, more sane, less reckless assault on my next training plan. I’m a McMillan Run Team member using Final Surge, and part of my “silly choices” problem may very well be the competitive fire ignited by even having a plan. At the same time, I need the plan for inspiration, order and logic.
Perhaps when it comes to personal joy and healthy decisions there are no “mistakes.” Perhaps it’s just how and who I am, as a runner, stumbling along and loving the journey, right or wrong, injured or not.
As long as my elbows fly high and I can touch my toes…I’ll see you at the finish.
