Running the B Team: Running Scared

Life sometimes has a funny way to make you think of the obvious. All my life I had been racing as though I was on another training run, just another tempo, no worries. This was wrong, I had to understand that when it was time to race, I had to perform better than all the long training runs. I found the true meaning on how to race on a lonely day when all I had was my thoughts to keep me company, I had to run scared. Racing in fear that my competition might find out the horrible high school career I had. Fearing that they might discover that I choke under pressure. But the greatest fear was the fear that this might be my last race. To me nothing was a certainty, injuries proved this to me. It wasn’t the ITB syndrome, or the runners knee, or even the stress fracture, it didn’t occur to me when I had the arch problems either. The thought of me not succeeding hit me when I sprained my ankle. One of the most simple injuries to have happened to you. It didn’t require intensive sessions with athletic trainers or doctors. It didn’t require special medication. All it required was the basics; RICE. Rest, ice, compression, and elevation. Of course more was required than just that, like flexibility, strength, and range of motion, but that is post swelling. Not my heart, my mind, or my strength could function normally for a while. I couldn’t run, barely walk, and I had no desire to. I was still the same guy that wanted to go all out on every run, I just didn’t see any reason to, everyone was telling me I had to take it easy, not to get burned out. But taking it easy wasn’t something my body understood, I had to go all out every time or I felt, well, guilty.
This injury showed me just how easily all your hard work can be taken away from you. All the eighty to one hundred mile weeks, all the early mornings waking at five to get at practice at time, all sweat lost from pushing my body to the limits, all races I’ve choked in, and all the people I knew thought I was a loser. Just another kid who didn’t train hard enough, another wannabe, another nobody, another face in the crowd. That was not who I wanted to be or who I was meant to be. Delicate issues control the lives of some men, but to me it was nothing. I had to run scared, I had to prove to all the skeptics that I could become the person I told them I could be. To run with my heart open and my mind free was something that I had to let go. From this point on I had to focus on all of my goals, not letting one detail pass my eye. I was the runner that should have gave up long ago, but never really could because I had no choice. The road was calling my name.