I started drafting this post a month ago, in a bit of a dark place running. Unfortunately I’m not finishing it today with any good news. I honestly don’t know what else to do.

I thought that once I addressed my Achilles issue and was no longer running in pain that all of this would go away. This is clearly not the case. Spoiler alert: a couple pain-free runs in the fall temps didn’t help. The pain is back and the mood remains the same. Yes, I am getting physical therapy and one of these days I might be smart enough to follow their instructions for actual healing, not symptom mitigation.

So here we are. Running. It sucks.

I can’t run alone. Cannot. I am hard pressed to get out the door for more than a mile on my own. I dread it and I bargain down the miles with myself until I’ve given myself permission to do less just to do something. My running would be comical right now if it weren’t so heartbreaking to me. I am so slow. I can’t go longer than 5 minutes without stopping to walk. I have no sense of how to pace myself. I don’t feel like I’m exerting a ton of energy and yet I’m constantly tired. This summer has decimated my mental game.

It has been made clear to me that I am not in shape, not even close (hello extra 20 pounds!). I’ve known this for a while and thought I could keep logging all the miles anyways. Ha! I’m at my lowest average monthly mileage in years. I don’t strength train or cross train. Hell I don’t even do my dynamic warm up anymore. I do the bare minimum (walk 5 minutes) prior to starting the run and then I run as little as is required that day and then stop.

I’ve become jealous of my best running friends. Friends who hang back with me despite being capable of so much more. Friends who are crushing their strength training and cross training multiple days a week and still humor me and my mileage schedule instead of doing what they might want on a given day. It is hard not to feel like dead weight. Like a black cloud over every run that only appears when I show up.

I don’t know what to do do get that mental muscle back. That ultra mindset that let me log 100+ miles a month just a year ago. I’m not excited for anything. There are no races right now. Virtual challenges have brought more anxiety than fun. It has been suggested to me more than once that maybe I need to stop running for a while. Just stop. I would not know what to do with myself if I didn’t run. I feel like it is the last healthy coping mechanism that I have in my arsenal. I would not know who I was if I did not run. I breathe. I hoard cats. I run. It is in my blood. But I feel like it is a slow death anymore.

So what to do? If I had some ideas, I wouldn’t be writing this. As of my PT appointment this morning, I am benched from running until at least October 19. And in all honestly, I volunteered to stop. I think my PT was a bit relieved to hear it, rather than trying to balance a solid treatment regimen with some half-assed running plan. I can still walk or cycle, but I don’t know that I’ll actually do either. If I am this enthusiastic about running right now, imagine how I feel about walking and cycling. That ass print on the couch isn’t going to make itself.

What boggles my mind is that I am still considering signing up for races in 2021. I like the idea of being fit enough to run all the miles again. I just can’t get motivated to do the work to get there. Is this a predictable consequence of insufferable summer running plus an injury? Is it burnout? Do I just need to do my PT exercises and wait patiently for a few fucks to arrive and be given? You tell me. I’m at a loss. What I do know is that I am tired and sad at everything level. Am I done?