Calling it QUITS.

 

As a runner, "QUITTING" is as bad as committing a serious crime. 

I have rehearsed mantra for years like:

"Winners never quit, and quitters never win." 

"Pain is temporary, quitting is forever." 

UGH.

Because sometimes, quitting isn't giving up, SOMETIMES quitting is choosing life again...

Like, actual health, sanity, and not making your husband have to take you to the clinic on a weekend, which is actually what happened. 

When your RUN STREAK becomes a Hostage Situation.

It was an innocent New Years Resolution, "One mile a day for a year."

Fast forward to averaging 80 mile run weeks in April and May, squeezing in 3 ultra races in 6 weeks, and plotting out daily runs with the same intensity as a dope sick crack head.  

Sleet/Snow? I ran.

Rain? I ran.

Fever? I ran.

Eventually, I wasn't doing the streak...The Streak was dictating me, The Streak held the strings. 

"Have you Tried...NOT Running?"

After Sulphur Springs 100 (because of course I ran a 100 mile race like a sane and logical person), I ended up with strep throat, never mind that I was sick before the race and on an antibiotic all the way through the day of the race for some other undiagnosed illness. 

With a raging fever, sweats, and basic misery, worse than actually running 100 miles I ended up in the Urgent Care. 
"Strep Throat" the nurse confirmed after swabbing me and then kindly added "Yeah...You were NO DOUBT going to get something. You destroyed your immune system."  I glared at Andy as he so freely and smugly shared my race and training schedule, basically bus chucking me. 

Somewhere between shame and relief I waited for her to add more insult to injury, she basically said "You did this to yourself sweetie."

But I wasn't going to die, not then anyway. And all the terrible thoughts that flooded my mind like mostly my cancer coming back, began to dissolve, like an ice cube on pavement in July. 

TRUTH IS, SHE was RIGHT. 

The Monkey on My Back

I was no longer a runner. I was a running hostage. 

-If it rained, I would whine about getting out there.

-If I was sore (which I always was) I'd zombie shuffle through the mile.

-If it was late, I would curse my bad life choices

-If I had life responsibilities, I found myself totally unraveling, desperately trying to figure out how I was going to get a measly mile in. 

 

Towards the end, I was planning my life around the minor mile that became monumental. It became a mission, and I was holding onto to it like fine family China because I didn't want to be a quitter-but it turns out I was being STUBBURNLY MISERABLE. 

POST Race BLUES

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest." Matt. 11:28

Like most victories you feel accomplished and triumphant until you don't. 

Then it all hits you. EXHAUTION, SADNESS, A STRANGE SLUMBER. 

This is real. POST-RACE BLUES are NORMAL. You pour your heart into something so big, and once it's done, your body and mind often collapse under the weight of what you just endure and accomplished. 

I NEEDED rest. So, I QUIT the run streak. I stepped back; it was time to let my body heal. To be content in the calm and grateful to the Lord for the gift He had given me. 

No fireworks. No Epiphanies. Just exhaustion, sickness, and the unshakable need to wrap myself in a blankie. 

This is NORMAL. Post Race Depression is normal it just doesn't feel normal. 

Exit Stage Left

I finally gave myself permission to QUIT. And guess what?

No one called me a failure. 

The earth didn't implode.

Strava didn't send a SWAT team looking for me. 

INSTEAD, I got something wild: PEACE.

My body stopped whispering threats, and the monkey actually disappeared. It was a beautiful break-up. 

I am becoming a runner again this week. I have MARQUETTE 50 coming in August and training gets dialed in this weekend with a training run and half marathon in Marquette with friends. 

But for now, I'm walking into it with zero pressure. 

AND No One Mile Run STREAK. 

Just FREEDOM. Joy, Sanity. Sanity is left up for discussion. 

"There is a season for everything under the sun...a time to run, a time to rest, a time for dessert." 

Ecclesiates-ish

THE RUNDOWN:

To anyone out there clinging to something that used to bring joy but now feels like a soul sucking chore, REMEMBER:

Quitting doesn't make you look weak: QUITTING a toxic pattern makes you Wise. 

Toxic might seem a little exaggerated but it gets the point across for non-runners or people that think my running is crazy. 

Whether it's a run streak, toxic relationship, or that banana that's been in your freezer since 2022- sometimes it's time to let it go!

Ask Yourself.

• Is it draining my joy?
• Is it driven by FEAR or FREEDOM?
• Is it compromising my mental or physical health?
• Am I worried about what others might think?

May19-25: 117 miles

May 26-June1: 25.31 miles

June2-8: 46 miles

June 9-15: 34 miles

Maybe quitting isn't defeat, its wisdom. 

"You're not lazy. You're tired. You're unmotivated. You're done. And it's okay to be done." 

-A runner Who Finally Took a Nap

In Peace,Not Pieces, 

Anita