Mediocrity

All week long, I have been wrestling with the idea of mediocrity. A quote that hung over my bed in high school comes to mind, "Half-hearted trying will only create half-hearted results, try the lottery instead." I have never believed in doing things half-heartedly. It's all or nothing. Whether it be school, work or running, I have never performed these acts less than my best. I don't like to sell myself short. That isn't to say that I was always a straight-A student or champion runner. I wasn't and I am not. But I was always the hardest worker. I was the one setting my alarm for 5:50am every morning of high school so that I could get in a run before classes. I was the one who ran an extra 2 miles to and from practices each afternoon just to get in some extra mileage. I was the one who pulled all-nighters, nearly fell asleep in the library and studied my butt off to earn my B.S. in Neuroscience from a top-ranked college. The hard sciences never came naturally to me but I loved learning and never feared the mandated work. I have always believed that if you work hard enough you can accomplish anything. I tell my kids this everyday. I don't give out blind praise, I don't commend them for being smart, but I do reinforce the importance or always trying your best and working hard.

One of my running goals has always been to qualify for the Boston Marathon. A few weeks ago, I felt optimistic about this goal. Finally done having kids and feeling happy with my fitness level just 9 months postpartum, I was beginning to think this may be the year to try my first marathon. I even bought a single Bob in preparation of the many months of miles Isaac and I would cover together. (Sigh.) While I have been a distance runner for half my life now, I have never run a marathon. I know the distance commands respect and I don't treat it lightly. I expect(ed) to run at least a few before really attempting to qualify for Boston. An old high school track coach and Olympic Marathon Trials qualifier once told me that it is very different running a marathon and racing a marathon. I believe her.

Just two weeks ago I was beginning to research 2014 marathons. My top choices were: Mountains to Ocean marathon in Santa Barbara (small, nearby, fast), Chicago (my hometown, iconic marathon, fast), Portland (excuse to see/visit friends and family up there), Catalina Trail Marathon (definitely want to do this sometime, but definitely slow, difficult marathon as it's all on trails and incredibly hilly).

Time changes everything. Just two weeks later and I sit here on the couch icing my foot and pondering whether I will ever be able to run healthily again. Though I've suffered numerous stress fractures in the past, this one was very different. None of the others were shocking to me. I was always running insanely high mileage, taking poor care of my body, etc., etc., etc. This one, though, seemed to pop out of nowhere. I was running conservative numbers, very slowly increasing distance and eating right. Before that Saturday morning run that ended with me limping home and straight to see a podiatrist, I felt so strong. Powerful. Invincible. Happy.

Following my diagnosis of stress fracture by the podiatrist, I consulted a local chiropractor who specializes in working with distance runners, then my primary care physician who is a sports medicine specialist and finally got an X-Ray which just further confirmed what I already knew was true. I also knew that getting this confirmed diagnosis via x-ray was the first step to my recovery. I needed to know that something was indeed wrong before I could figure out how to fix it. The second step has had me pouring over research articles about running, stress fractures and minimalist vs. maximalist shoes. I need an action plan. I need to know how I am going to be able to run again and avoid injury this time around. I need to believe that I can run again, but also stay realistic about my history of stress fractures. Do I need to resort to mediocrity? Perhaps.

While pregnant with Isaac I ran a trail half-marathon. I knew that I was pregnant and didn't push it, but still ran it relatively fast. Though I was prepared for this race, I didn't really train for it. No mile repeats, no speed-work, no schedule or plan except daily runs to get the girls to sleep. I didn't record my mileage. When I decided to race the Calabasas Classic 10K this November, I sat down and created a training plan for myself. I followed that plan to the tee and completed every scheduled long run and speed-workout, running my intervals faster than planned. I was doing it.. until, I wasn't. Until my heel gave out. So why was I able to run a fast 13.1 miles less than 2 years ago but now couldn't even get to the start line of a 6.2 miler? The speed work, I believe.

I run in Vibram Fivefingers. Semi-barefoot. Definitely minimalist. I truly do love to feel the ground, the rocks, the earth. It is a long story which requires it's own post about why I wear Vibrams, but the short story is that they saved my running. They changed my form. I no longer heel-strike but land on the ball of my foot. "Then how did you fracture your heel," my brilliant husband asked, "If you don't land on your heel?" Good question. While training and running the trail 1/2 marathon I didn't land on my heel. I stayed healthy and ran as much as I wanted without a care as to my weekly mileage. I ran free. While completing fast workouts this time around, specifically weekly mile repeats, I am sure my form broke down, resulting in the dreaded return of the heel strike. I was literally pounding my nearly-bare-heel into the ground mile after mile, week after week, month after month. In cushioned shoes, perhaps my foot could have handled the pressure. Perhaps.. Perhaps my body can't handle running fast intervals.. yet or ever. Perhaps I will never run another PR, never qualify for the Boston Marathon. Only time will tell. For now, I just want to run.

If my choice is either run or run fast, I choose to run. Is this choosing mediocrity? Perhaps, but it's also choosing health and happiness and I am okay with that. Are you? Is it better to run just to run, knowing that you will never reach your goals or never better your best times? Or is it better to simply not run? I choose run. Do what you do, what you love to do, what you can do with your situation and this will make you happy.