One Body, One Mind.

I felt my legs give out and I collapsed onto the side of a narrow trail, feeling the prickle of dried grass from the hill poking my back as I dropped my head into my dusty hands.

Then the tears came.

I couldn’t help but feel the heavy aching in my chest release itself through ugly sobs. I pulled away my hands and looked at my dirt-caked legs still covered in bruises and healing cuts from a fall I took a few miles down this same trail a few weeks back. They signified my courage and hardened spirit, but they were currently my biggest enemy. Struggling with my pack, I finally freed my cell phone, begged for a few bars of service and called my mom.

“I can’t do this. I’m only three miles in and I can’t bend my knee. I don’t want to quit but it just hurts so fucking badly.”

I sobbed some more.

My mom listened, patiently. Sometimes she struggles to not give her advice but during this early morning moment, she was quiet.

“All I have right now is running. That’s it. No job, no friends, just running. And I fucking love running. But it hurts. Why does it hurt?”

2020 was a rough year for me. I graduated into a hastily shut down society with no job opportunities. I was struggling with finding my passion but at that point, it literally didn’t matter what I wanted to do because no one could do anything. My friends had all dissipated for one reason or another and I did what I always do, turn to the trails.

I took up ultra running on a whim and fell in love. So I trained harder and harder. Sitting on the side of the trail a beautiful morning in October, I watched as my dreams of racing my first 50k in January totally disintegrate. And I didn’t know what to do.

“I think it’s time you stop looking at yourself as a body versus a mind. It’s all one. It’s all you.” My mom gently spoke truths I had never paused to think about. I’m someone who’s best described as all-in, passionate, and really, really intense. I have to give 100% at everything I’m doing. But in running, that meant I was pushing my body to extremes it couldn’t handle. First, I tore my meniscus that lead to a hamstring strain that never healed because I couldn’t mentally handle taking time off.

She was right.

But I couldn’t handle the depression that started to sink in as I made the trek back to my truck, dragging my pride and shattered dreams behind me.

Most of November and December I spent not running. Life became more and more complicated and I lost all motivation to even try and run because I knew if I stepped outside, my hamstring would flare up and I’d be sidelined again for another week. So I just didn’t try.

Towards the end of December, I stopped pitying myself. Call it an epiphany, call it a comeback, I have no idea why but I remembered why I started running in the first place. I’ve always wanted to feel completely and totally free.

I started strength training, doing my physical therapy exercises religiously, taking annoyingly short runs every day, hell, I even did a few indoor bike sessions that felt mentally equivalent to watching paint dry. And the most amazing thing was, my hamstring no longer hurt.

Maybe it was the rest I took, even if I hated it.

Maybe it was the focused and consistent strength training, even if I hated it.

Maybe it was learning to slow down and be mindful of my body as I ran, even if I hated it.

But I’m back. I’m on my third week of training and I’ve had no issues with my hamstring. No flare ups in my knee. Nothing. 

I’m registering for a marathon, a 50k, and a 50 mile race this year. And those are just the goal races. It’s easy for me to get ahead of myself, get too zealous in my pursuits and burn out after an injury. But this time, I’ve learned an important lesson that I know will carry me through this season: I am both a body and a mind.