Reflections

I’m sitting on the Downeaster train from Boston to Maine with some time to kill. This weekend has been an overwhelming mix of emotions and it’ll take a bit longer to unpack I’m sure but for now I’ll use this space to get my thoughts somewhat together before I spend the next couple days enjoying one of my favorite cities in the country.

My main takeaway from the weekend is one of disappointment. Ultimately the race was far from what I wanted. Boston graced us with a pretty incredible day of racing and I failed once again to live up to the expectations I have for myself. While there’s obvious disappointment in not performing to that standard you’ve set in recent years, the big thing is my reaction to it.

You kind of get a sense early on when it’s not your day and this was about as early as I remember this happening. When you’re counting down the miles as early as mile 8 you know there’s a problem. Each passing mile couldn’t come soon enough.

I love this race. I know this course. I come back to a race that’s known for being a tad slow and unpredictable for a reason. It’s the challenge and atmosphere of it. Instead of trying to roll with the punches, I found myself spazzing a ton and trying to reset constantly.

I’ve failed at Boston before. It comes with the territory. I have fond memories of still getting after it with others and still trying to pull positives to get me through. Monday was me trying to get myself out of a battle between myself and my own thoughts.

It’s not to say that Boston wasn’t a memorable and enjoyable experience as a whole. I worked and battled with some talented individuals over the course of 26.2 miles. I just can’t say that I took in as much as I had in other years.

As I try to piece in my head my recap from Monday I find myself focusing more on my own battle with my reaction to the circumstances of the day than taking those shots and saying, it’s Boston, take it in and fight.

I noticed signs of this in my block heading into CIM. The obsessive nature that I once had in undergrad was beginning to show its ugly claws again. It’s a one story when you’re tackling a new distance and there’s just no expectations. It’s a completely different one when the goals are more pointed.

After the race I was met with a flow of conflicting emotions. The lows of running a disappointing race combined with the highs of getting my second First to The Track House. I’ve been frustrated with my running for quite a bit. It’s been a long time since I’ve run a race I was proud of. My emotions as I walked up those steps on Newbury Street were raw. Sure it’s a dumb little challenge. But it was a win. I needed something man.

So I guess it brings me back here, sitting on this train reflecting on this weekend.

Ultimately I knew I wasn’t 100 percent heading into this. Despite my PTs miracle work over the last couple weeks I’ve still been struggling good over the last couple weeks. I knew that this race spits out any that are banged up. I’ve faced it myself. And I got spit out again.

But we line up. I love this race. And even with another one in the loss column, I can’t say I regret this. I’m proud of my performance and how I worked with what I had on the day.

Going forward I need to get myself to 100 percent again. But just as important, I need to reframe this running thing again.

With rumors going around that the standard is dropping 2 more minutes I need to have something that keeps me around, not focusing on the number on the board. This sport has felt a little bit lonely in the last year and maybe I need to lean into enjoying community once more. Maybe being healthy will tame the awful thoughts. Running continues to be a net positive in my life, I just need to stop it from being that poison it once was those years ago.

It’s very easy to be positive and happy go lucky when you’ve had breakthrough after breakthrough. It’s time for me to take my own advice and find that why again.

Despite these thoughts, I look through and see just how incredible this weekend was. Yeah, I didn’t run what I wanted to run. But I was a part of a really cool program, had multiple picture of me used for thousands of people to see and most importantly saw, met, and put a face to a name, so many amazing people.

Most importantly, so many people I care about ran fucking great. And if you can’t be happy for your friends, then what’s there to be happy about. I saw one of my best friends come back from a surgery that had him terrified he’d ever be back to his normal self. I ran with him for a short time before he put me in the ground as he had himself a day, slower than he’s run before but potentially more meaningful than his past top 30 finishes. I remember how excited I was to hear JP run 2:10, Sam run 2:19, and Brady run 2:24. The marathon takes but it also gives and I’ve had plenty of people celebrate my accomplishments. It’s time to be happy for others who got that day.

I spent this weekend with some of my favorite people in one of my favorite places at one of my favorite events of the year. From my patient and loving partner, to some of my closest friends, to those I’d finally get a chance to meet in person. I’m very blessed to have so many in my corner.

I arrive to Portland Maine thinking to myself just how much I love this stupid freaking event we spend so much money on.

Boston I’ll be back eventually. We’re going to 7.