You know you’ve been there. If you say you haven’t, you’re lying. The black hole gets everyone at some point. The day starts out just fine, then BOOM! The proverbial crap hits the fan. One thing leads to another and your entire day is trashed. One bad outcome leads to a negative thought…then another bad outcome…more negative thoughts about past/present/future bad outcomes. The black hole sucks you in. It’s deep…it’s black…and it’s really tough to get out.
I had a huge pharmacology test today. Been studying hard since this medic school madness started last summer. Stayed up late last night and got up at 0400 to study. I’m an overachiever in everything I do, so I had to be ready. I WAS ready. To make a long story short, everyone was thrown for a loop and the test sucked major ass. I actually shed tears over it. I don’t like being less than excellent…especially when it comes to school or athletics. I don’t do well with failure. Obviously.
Since school didn’t go so well, I thought I would smash my 3 miler this afternoon. 3 miles…come on! I did 7 on Saturday so 3 isn’t tough anymore, right? I failed to acknowledge my 2 hours of sleep last night on top of my collective lack of sleep over the last few weeks. Add crossfit workouts twice a week and an increase in mileage from my norm. How did I expect to run a quick and easy 3 miler? Because I always want to be better than myself…better than the last time. I want to get faster…stronger…less mental. Basically, I want to be awesome. I don’t care that someone else’s awesome isn’t necessarily my awesome. None of that matters when you are your own worst enemy. You just want results. Now.
15 minutes into my run…I’m killin’ it. Perhaps I started out of the blocks a little hot. I had so much bottled up aggression and frustration…I tried to take it out on, well, myself. I don’t know my pace (because I don’t have a fancy GPS), but I know it was a lot faster than usual. I got to the halfway point…DEAD. Legs dead. Lungs dead. Emotions dead. I was like a fish out of water. I wanted to stop…and I did stop for a few seconds…twice. I ran as hard as I could and stopped….TWICE! I can’t believe I stopped on a 3 miler. “Megan you are such a puss!” That’s what I kept telling myself. “You can’t do 13.1!” I started to cry…again. Second time in less than 5 hours. I cried the last mile. I cried during my cool down. I cried while stretching. I cried all the way home. What a shitty run.
I took a short nap, went to Mohr Fitness to destress and DO WORK, and now I’m here…writing and reflecting…and finally NOT CRYING. I had the opportunity to speak with a few friends who coached me through the day. Training parters, classmates and dear friends…they helped put things in perspective. Am I hard on myself? Hell yes. Is this just part of life and the training process? Yes. Will I have more days like this? Ohh yeah. Can I run a half marathon? I sure hope so.
I’m still trying to pull myself out of the black hole tonight. I’m still having doubts about my ability as a runner. I still don’t know if I can run 13.1, but I’m going to give it hell trying. Strength can only be measured in times of weakness. This is my time.