#racedisappointment

The cold air nipped at us, and I struggled to stop shivering as we waited for the start of the Black Canyon 100k ultramarathon. Luckily, it was only a few moments of shiver-waiting, before it was time to cross the starting line. I tucked inside of my jacket a bit and put one foot in front of the other.

Those first 3 or 4 miles were rough. I shivered and tried to ignore the sound of my heavier-than-typical breathing. About 9 days before this moment, I woke up with a chest cold–a deep, dark, slimy and furry organism had burrowed in my chest, and it wasn’t moving out as quickly as I wished it would.

Cold or no cold, I had a mission for this race: finish in under 17 hours to get the qualifier for the Western States 100 lottery. It appears I have moved from the quest to race Kona, to get my name on the starting docket of Western States. So, here we go with my year 4 attempt for that famous race from Squaw to Auburn!

But, honestly, that 17-hour finish was just the basic, bottom-tier goal. I put a lot of energy into training for Black Canyon – trying new things, forcing new adaptations – and before I got sick, I was feeling pretty damn skippy. I had a super secret goal, and as I started the race, I still wanted it.

Cold be damned!

As I got to the 4-ish mile mark, I could feel the air temperatures warming up, and my body was feeling better. In fact, I felt good.

Relief! Perhaps being sick wasn’t going to keep me from my super secret goal.

The sun was shining, the air was clean, and the trails for the Black Canyon 100k are absolutely beautiful! This race features more rugged terrain than Javelina Jundred (another Arapaiva Running race that I’ve done). The trail was fun and zippy, treating us to plenty of rocks, switchbacks, climbing and descending. If you like rhythm running, this isn’t a good course to pick! The terrain changes regularly.

I ran based solely on feel for about the first 30 miles, so I was surprised when I finally looked at my watch to see how far ahead of my plan I was. So far ahead, in fact, that by the time I got to mile 30, I had caught up with John!

More importantly than the pacing I was feeling great. I beat this cold! 

And then… (cue the downward spiral music)

Somewhere around mile 38ish, my breathing became rapid and shallow. Even though we weren’t moving any differently, I COULD. NOT. control my breathing and run at the same time.

It’s a simple equation that I failed to take into consideration at the start: Lingering chest cold + asthma = I was kidding myself.

From that point on, I had to walk much more than I could run to prevent hacking coughs that were so violent, I teetered on the verge of (and sometimes over the verge of) puking. (The day after the race, my back was more sore than any place else from all of the coughing.)

I’ll spare you all of the gory details (again, think slimy, dark and furry).

Those details aren’t necessary because this post isn’t really about the race – even though that’s how I opened it. This post is about dealing with the disappointment I felt about the race.

Yes, I finished in under 17 hours – a hard fought 15:XX-something (I haven’t even had the heart to look at the results for my specific finish time–and please, don’t you go looking either, okay?). I coughed between giggles (and giggled between coughs), and told the voices to f*ck off. I was finishing today.

In fact, John and I laughed a lot in those later miles of the race. We confirmed again: it is a choice to miserable – even in the darkest moments.

So, yes, basic mission accomplished.

But, that super secret goal? Yeah, not even close. The most frustrating part is that my legs felt good to run – but my lungs wouldn’t have it. Every time I even so much as trotted, I found myself hands on knees, doubled-over in spasms of coughing.

As I write this post, I’m sitting here with bronchitis. So, yup, I did a number on myself – all to get that WSER lottery qualifier.

Yet, I’m disappointed. I put in a lot of effort and energy – physical and psychic for Black Canyon 100k. And, I fell way short of what I think I am capable of. Ugh. I hate this feeling.

So, what do I do with that disappointment? This is what I want to talk about.

Wallow In It

First, I let myself wallow in it. This may not be what you expected to read – but let me explain.

I let myself feel the disappointment. I acknowledge that it’s okay and reasonable to feel disappointed. If I didn’t feel something, then it would mean that I didn’t care. While I have my fair share of limiters, emotional passion is not one of them.

For me, if I don’t take the time to process the emotions – they will come back later in very ugly ways. So, yeah, I identify it and process it. But, I put a limit on it until I re-direct the emotions.

Re-Direct It

It’s not healthy or helpful to sit in the wallowing process for too long. I give myself about a day to feel sorry for myself, and then shut it off. I cannot change what happened – so it does me little good to keep focusing on it once I’ve grieved the loss.

I re-direct the grief by looking to the future. I love having goals and something to “shoot for.” In the wake of disappointment (and even in the wake of triumph), I move on to identify the next set of limits to push.

So, I take my emotions and channel them into something that is more directly in my control. You know, like heading over to UltraSignUp to find a new race :-).

Separate Outcome from Identity

One race, one day of training doesn’t define me as an athlete – and it certainly doesn’t define me as a person. Of all of the responses to disappointment, this is probably the hardest one for me. My zest for life – shall I call it that? – comes with a very all-in type of approach to things.

When I am IN something – I  AM IN IT. I don’t do half-way very well.

One of the issues, however, is that I can tend to over-attribute the things that I do with who I am. If something I do is off the mark of what I want, it can pose a very strong identity-threat. Yes, what we do contributes to who we are and who we become, but any one act of “doing” is not the essence of our souls.

Part of the challenge for me is over-ascribing too much importance to outcome – instead of privileging the importance of the process and the life journey. In terms of outcome, Black Canyon 100k was waaaayyyy shy of the mark.

But, in terms of process, I’ve learned several very valuable lessons – as well as reminders. This outcome doesn’t define me – but this journey is a part of who I am and who I will continue to become.

Be grateful. 

When we returned home from the race, John said, “Oh, hey, I forgot to tell you something about the race.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” I replied.

“Mission accomplished. We got the qualifier. Now we can do what we want this year.” He put out his fist for our traditional fist bump, which we do before we start and finish every race.

I smiled. While I still felt that pang of disappointment in the moment we had this conversation, I knew he was right. And, this brings me to what is perhaps the most important way to deal with disappointment:

All emotions – from disappointment to triumph, from despair to joy – let us know we are alive. I am fortunate that my disappointments are incredibly minimal in the grand scale of human challenges. When I think about the depth of human tragedy, I cannot help but feel grateful for the blessings in my life.

The Buckles.