The day-to-day was never hard for me. I had no simple advice for the questioner who asked "how do you get out the door when you just don't want to?" The motivation was intrinsic. It was implied that a single workout was packaged into a whole movement to get better. That desire easily overrode short term pain and discomfort. I've always enjoyed the process of training. Setting small, numerical goals on the fly brings great pleasure when they're achieved.
But motivation hasn't been flowing as seamlessly lately.
 |
| Finishing the Naples Half Marathon last month. Not sure if it's a good thing, but I had the best pain face of the top 5 finishers... |
When I started running professionally in 2014, I did not foresee my career continuing past age 30 and into the new decade. The fact that life as a full time athlete has survived this long is all at once a surprise, a life accomplishment of which I am proud, and occasionally a cause of anxiety (what have I missed out on during all those miles and years spent at the remote, North Carolina mountain outpost of ZAP?). The belief that my potential was not yet fully tapped at age 23 moved me to choose this path back then. The same conviction has tipped the scales in favor of staying in the game in the numerous times that doubts have crept in.
For me, running's great challenge is not in everyday workout torture, race nerves, or injury woe, but the sheer long term compendium of failure, failure, success, and failure. Advancements are more few and far between. The scale of time spent on this project gets to me. An awful knowledge comes with expertise in one repetitive activity as the years pile up: it may be a very long period of working and waiting before you succeed again.
Every runner has a different story. I've enjoyed good luck in the form of great durability: a stress fracture in 2016 has been the only injury that's materially impacted my career. Instead of injury, the less obvious, wishy-washily "diagnosed" issues of mental and physical fatigue / burnout hunt me down me first. An injury is a malady with a usually obvious diagnosis and appropriate response; mild burnout, less so.
Throughout this fall and early winter, running felt disjointed. Recovery from the Berlin Marathon in late September was meant to flow smoothly into training for a handful of shorter Fall road and track races. I wanted to net some leg speed prior to the buildup for the Olympic Trials Marathon taking place in February. A mediocre 8k road race in Richmond and a very poor race at the Manchester Road Race on Thanksgiving prompted me to pull out of the third planned race, an indoor 5k in Boston. I was concerned about being mentally and physically fried, and took another ten days fully off from running in order to re-set. The entire fall season felt like a false start, with not much gained. I jogged back to the blocks, did a little nervous dance, and got set again.
Throughout this fall and early winter, running felt disjointed. Recovery from the Berlin Marathon in late September was meant to flow smoothly into training for a handful of shorter Fall road and track races. I wanted to net some leg speed prior to the buildup for the Olympic Trials Marathon taking place in February. A mediocre 8k road race in Richmond and a very poor race at the Manchester Road Race on Thanksgiving prompted me to pull out of the third planned race, an indoor 5k in Boston. I was concerned about being mentally and physically fried, and took another ten days fully off from running in order to re-set. The entire fall season felt like a false start, with not much gained. I jogged back to the blocks, did a little nervous dance, and got set again.
 |
| Georgia Clay Roads north of Tallahassee |
When you've been through many cycles of highs and lows, the task begins to feel Sisyphusean. Getting motivated to climb back towards a peak in your potential looks daunting ("here we go again"). But running is practically by definition a sport based around getting back in the saddle time and time again. The belief that a breakout could be just around the corner keeps us going. Though on some mornings before the run gets moving, that notion feels like gambler's fallacy. Too often lately, I look at the pile of experiential data behind me: what's worked and hasn't, and indulge in reasoning that tends toward the negative side.
The thing is, running isn't really rational. There's art in it. Exploiting the weird gaps and being dumb helps you win.
The thing is, running isn't really rational. There's art in it. Exploiting the weird gaps and being dumb helps you win.
I am aware of what it takes to be great at this sport. I believe I possess the physical tools required. What sucks about being human is that you can know what mental and emotional states will get you there, but sometimes find it difficult to access them. For me, simply having fun and being excited about what I'm doing are the most important basic ingredients in getting my body to translate training into performance. Though sometimes a combination of revisiting past failure and occasional depression keeps me from maintaining that positive state continuously.
The greatest fear that comes with all this is that ambition will be stifled by my own weakness, rather than outside forces beyond my control. I could live with having failed because of, say, bad luck, the weather, or chance illness. But knowing that a negative mindset kept me from my goals would be a personal hell.
So I attempt to treat these thoughts not as some abstract, uncontrollable monster but as any old running injury. Something that you acknowledge is there, take steps to treat, and which eventually heals. I try to isolate negative thoughts from the rest of my mind and refuse to believe they've become the norm. This is simply the current challenge in a sport that doesn't let anyone sail smoothly forever.
 |
| Strides on the track in Tallahassee with my fellow ZAPsters Matt, Andrew, and Tyler |
Though I've fought a slight uphill battle with my mind, the more tangible conditions of the present are positive. I'm healthy and training on schedule for an Olympic Trials Marathon race that is now less than four weeks away. Behind me are over three consecutive years of uninterrupted training and the residual strength of three marathons (California International, Grandmas, and Berlin) run in the past 14 months. The ZAP team is deep into our annual winter training camp in Tallahassee. Everyone's goals are aligned and focused on the Trials, making training and life around our extended stay hotel in Tallahassee feel even more of a collective effort than usual.
As the trials race draws nearer, I'm finding it easier to run with inspiration and have fun at practice with the ZAP crew. The message I'm being sent is clear: I still relish the opportunity to compete. I'm putting no pressure on myself. Just running my own best race on February 29th in Atlanta will mean that I can negotiate a crappy mental patch and still go through preparation and execution like I always have. That in itself would be great experience for the next time running or life feel disjointed, but a goal still stands to be taken.
Thanks for reading. Here are some upcoming races and tentative races:
Thanks for reading. Here are some upcoming races and tentative races:
| Date | Race Name | Location | Venue / Distance |
| February 29 | Olympic Marathon Trials | Atlanta, GA | Marathon (NBC 12pm EST) |
| May 8 | Payton Jordan Invite ? | Palo Alto, CA | Track 10,000m ? |
| June 7 | Portland Track Festival ? | Portland, OR | Track 10,ooom ? |
| June 19-28 | Olympic T&F Trials ? | Eugene, OR | Track 5,000m / 10,000m ? |
