I thought I could do it all. I’m me, I’m invincible, I can handle it. I won’t quit, I will just stay up later, work harder, strive more, 110% until I succeed. There is a breaking point, but I’m so strong. I will just keep pushing that point further and further away. Especially because of how hard I’m training and because I want to succeed so badly.
Well sometimes we hit that breaking point.
Mine happened sometime late Saturday night over the weekend and I didn’t even see it coming.
I simply didn’t want to get out of bed. And then I didn’t want to run. I couldn’t do anything. I didn’t even care. With Barkley less than 3 weeks out, my biggest most important runs are timed for this weekend. I missed my workouts, simply slept through them. Laid around instead of running. The dream slipping away ever so silently.
I wasn’t injured, but I was surely tired. I wasn’t necessarily broken in physical sense due to training, but the sheer volume and workload I’ve chosen to take on has slowly worn me down. A well timed withdrawal from caffeine accelerated the decline. I could no longer stimulate my way past the energy load that my body was attempting to sustain. I just needed to be broken. But I’m not defeated.
Once I took a deep breath and walked back away from the ledge of defeat, I took a proverbial “look around”. And what did I see? I saw again my dream, my goal not too far off in the distant future. The day of reckoning will come and it will pass. And I will be ok. I will give it my all and have the confidence of my training behind me and I will work damn hard to reach that goal. I’ve not been defeated, I’ve just been in need of seeing that goal again of again feeling the hunger to reach for my dream. And oh how I’m hungry.
In close I’ll share the week that brought be to my breaking point. It’s not a holistic picture of the weeks of training before this or a log of the other stressors or life activities that surely affect my entire workload, but it is visual picture of what I’ve been doing in preparation.
As I write this (February 25, 2015), I am just over 4 weeks out from what will surely be a highlight of my 2015 racing season. It is 1:23 am and I’m still awake, working, thinking, dreaming. The Barkley looms large in my mind and on my legs. Just last night I happened to glance down at my calves and didn’t quite recognize them. Thick solid muscles anchored my lower legs above my hastily taped ankle, a precaution from a bad ankle roll on Squaw Peak early Monday morning. I ran (and/or hiked) over 14 miles in total yesterday with close to 7500 feet of climbing and similar amount of descent.
Double on Squaw Peak, double on Quartz Peak, the miles nor number of repeats hardly matter. Time and elevation gain are the key markers of my training these days. The monotony of repeat after repeat is grueling and bland. But surely a recipe for success just as water erodes a deep canyon or roots work their way eventually splitting solid rock. Work is done and deposits are made into the “training bank” collecting interest and saving for the big day.
A typical “run” with 3000 to 5000 feet of climb is becoming fairly routine for me but the amazement from onlookers remains the same. I remember just weeks ago when I delighted at turning back up the mountain for a “2nd” trip up to the summit. Day hikers were amazed at the feat and I smiled with grin as my confidence soared. Wow I’m something special going back up again and again.
But time and repeats harden not only the legs but the mind and dull my enthusiasm. It becomes difficult to continue and reality sets in. There is much work to be done, up and down, steep, steeper. Although the physical effort to complete one summit becomes easier, the work load increases, the total time rises, the mental ability to continue to turn back around and head back up to the top time and time again becomes more difficult to sustain. To get the same training effect one must find yet an even steeper trail than before. Just as an addict must increase the dose to achieve the same high, I must run faster and steeper to feel mine.