Part 2: You don't realize your strengths until you face your greatest weaknesses
Related posts:
Part 1: The easiest part of the job is done - signing up for a half marathon
A couple of people that I talked to about what happened at the first run humorously laughed at me and brushed it aside saying "You have been idle for too long in life that you can't even do something as simple as this. Look at people around you; if they can do it so effortlessly, so can you. It is not a big deal. Stop whining and train harder- build up your stamina, and your lung capacity." It broke me from within to hear that- probably because I am conditioned to take negative criticism to heart, but I convinced myself that it might indeed be due to the lack of strenuous physical activities in the recent years. Maybe if I push myself harder I can get better, I told myself.
Two days later as I was getting ready for my second run with Team Asha, I found myself taking mental notes for a To-Do list: take deep breaths, inhale through the nose and exhale through the mouth, time your run to set a constant pace, try talking to someone or listening to music to distract the mind from the distance, etc. I was scared, but I thought checking off all boxes on the list would help me to do better on the run. I was gravely mistaken. Again, I couldn't run more than 400 ft. and I stopped just seconds before the point where I would have started gasping for breath. I decided to walk for a bit to slow down my breathing before starting my run again. I found this run-walk technique oddly comforting, and hence I continued that for the rest of my run. I probably covered half the distance of what the others did that day. While I didn't necessarily feel proud about it, I was happy that I did better than my performance on Day 1. At least I knew that I had given my 100%. For the sole reason that I felt comfortable with this technique, I actually ended up adopting it throughout my season without realizing until much later that run-walk is an actual method that people training for long runs often start with.
I thought I should be good to run the half marathon as long as I practiced the run-walk method for the remaining ~3 months. That was until I had to do my first run while on my menses. People who have known me from a close quarter over the last decade know that I have always had menstrual issues ranging from abnormal bleeding to painful cramps, from diarrhea to vomiting, and what not. Considering that even the word 'period' is a taboo in India, the issues that some women face are not openly discussed and are often shrugged off even by gynecologists.** While I can continue to rant about it, let's suffice to say that a diagnosis was never made, and I was never given any medications for the same. But growing up, we were often told that exercising during the cycle is beneficial in multiple ways. I was expecting that running on my periods would miraculously solve my issues. Naturally it took me by surprise when a couple of miles into the run I ended up with excruciating cramps, heavier than usual bleeding, lesser endurance, and more fatigue. I could feel my face reddening as I struggled to hold back my tears because the pain was unbearable. I was asked to take rest and not run for the rest of my cycle (which generally tends to be longer than in most women), which meant that my muscles would cool down and tighten up over the next couple of weeks, and I would have to start from scratch all over again. And this, was about to happen every month. During these times I realized that I was being highly critical of myself for ending up with multiple issues while most other people seemed just fine. My fellow runners encouraged me to schedule appointments with doctors to get tests done so as to ensure that I am not worsening things by running. Partly because I was scared of the doctors and their potential diagnoses, and partly because I was afraid they would ask me to not run, I kept pushing it down on my list. I decided that I'll visit the doctors only after my half marathon. Reflecting back, all I can say is I wish I wasn't so stupid.
While the run-walk method helped me to a certain extent during our weekly runs at the Embarcadero on days I wasn't troubled by my menses, I often felt that I am not as good as the rest of the team. As we progressed in the season, people kept getting better and faster which kept them going during long distance runs and rigorous track workouts. My fear of not being good enough often led to me missing all track workouts, most of the Saturday long runs, and some of the Embarcadero weekly runs. At times work meetings in the evenings, and weekend plans kept me from showing up for practice. I would generally compensate for what I missed by doing runs by myself, because I felt better about running alone at my pace than being a snail amidst others. I would at times go running or walking with my flatmates for a change. With every passing day my insecurities grew manifold, and I kept getting apprehensive about finishing the run on race day. I finally decided to do my first long run- a target of 7 miles, mostly on flat ground by myself on the 2nd of June, 2019. It took a lot of will and courage to get started and keep going for the initial 3 miles. But then, to my surprise things got easier around mile 4, and I was able to accomplish my goal of 7 miles! My pace wasn't anything close to good, but I felt like I had won an Olympic medal. For all the transparency I can provide, this is what the stats looked like (and you'll agree that it doesn't look good):
I completed this run with no energy supplements, no electrolytes, and no water stops. So at least this gave me a renewed level of confidence that if nothing else, I could at least complete 7 miles on race day. I had ~2 months left, and I could try to get to the finish line by then. That day, I felt like the happiest person on earth!
I received tremendous support from the two amazing Asha SF coordinators. Very often I was told that doing a run-walk is not recommended, and that I should keep my body in the same continuous motion. I tried pushing myself harder but I never could do it, and they would tell me that it is still fine because listening to my own body is more important. I often heard them say, "Just don't give up on yourself. Take it slow if that is what your body tells you to do, but remember to keep going and complete the race. We don't care how long it takes for you to get there, but the goal is to get to the finish line without injuring yourself." I think I needed to hear this back then to start understanding my body, to start believing in myself, and to start realizing that every person who completes the race is a winner.
It took me almost 3 long months (by then I had just a couple of days left for the race day) to completely understand and accept that every human body is different - in composition, in abilities, and in disabilities. We are raised in a world where we are taught to seek validation by often comparing our performance and success with those of others around us. The thought gets deeply ingrained in our minds and we often refuse to accept the possibility of not being good at something. If you are like me, here's a gentle reminder from someone who has been there and done that:
Start loving yourself and your body, no matter what. Learn to live life with a balance. Stop pushing yourself so hard that things completely spiral out of your control. Take care of yourself, listen to your body, respect your limits, and recharge when you need to.
If you remember to do this, I am sure that even you will start appreciating the small achievements in a bigger picture. You will end up as a stronger person because you didn't back off when you faced your greatest weaknesses. You will end up as a winner!
**
I in no way mean to imply that women necessarily face more struggles than men while running. Most issues that runners face are gender agnostic.
Comments
Post a Comment