My heart hurts.
And I will unashamedly admit that I’ve been crying for nearly a week.
Because when I say the words, they make it to my throat and then threaten to choke me.
And just typing this, telling all of you, almost hurts the most. Because it’s not telling Marcus. Mom and Dad. David and Sue.
It’s real.
Though you have to believe me when I tell you that I have never felt denial so powerfully before in my life.
But just like Brady, I spent the better half of the last month running through pain that I shouldn’t have ignored.
The way I justified it to myself is that like the actual race, training is a fluid and continuous event. Sometimes you’re supposed to push-through and sometimes you’re supposed to stop and breathe. But the line separating the two can be extremely hard to distinguish, and every time you have to engage in that delicate dance, it’s a gamble.
In my case on October 2nd, the two things I was so absolutely certain I was going to do – crossing the starting and finish lines of the Twin Cities Marathon, are not going to happen.
I think it has been so hard to process because I made it to the taper.
I have a number.
I have a corral.
Of all of the things that I do have, the one I do not is Time.
Two weeks is enough time to deal with fixing bruises, blisters, chafing, and aches.
But it’s not long enough to rest a muscle outright, much less start running again before the race.
It’s like some sort of sick joke.
Rational Kat knows that this is the right decision.
That I haven’t even been running for a full two years.
That I’m only 24.
That I never started training for this race with the intent to break myself as the end goal.
That if I ran on October 2nd and ended up as a former runner, I would never forgive myself.
But the girl who made it over the hill? The one who only had 6.2 miles left?
Her world is shattered right now.
Hey Kat! I’m sorry to hear that the race isn’t going to work out for you this year. Just remember, that this whole adventure has proven that you have the drive and the will power to do it. Keep pushing (once you’re feeling better), kick ass and take names!
Awww Kat!! You’ve put in so much hard work, but your health in the long run is most important. I hesitate to get too mushy with you because I know that no matter what someone says that intense and crushing defeat you are feeling now will not be lessened with words. Just hang in there, I’m rooting for you always!!
Keep healthy and happy and the marathon will come in time. And you’ll rock – healthy-style. ~M
Oh Kat….sorry you will not be able to run your race I know how disappointed you must be. You have to rest your muscles now so you can run another race. I have a few muscles that have had issues and have not quite healed right so taking time off to rest and build your muscle back up is the best option trust me it sucks when they don’t cooperate later in life. Take it easy….love ya
Oh Kat, my heart is aching for you. I haven’t run for a month myself, and had to hold back tears while I watched part of the finish at the half I was supposed to run. My massage therapist, on the other hand, said she made the decision to knowingly risk injuring her knee permanently when she ran the Dublin Marathon a few years back, and she said she’ll never run a half or marathon again. That will not be us. We will fight through, get stronger, and recover and run again. Grieve as long as you must.
Oh Kat, I feel for you. You’re rational self is completely on the money but that doesn’t help you feel any more satisfied. I’m certain that this was the first of many marathon training schedules and your experience and the tools you learned will serve you well in your next one. Here’s a huge hug!
I was supposed to run the Get Lucky half this past March. I forgot to pick up my packet and realized it the night before at 10pm. I bawled for HOURS (and felt like a complete idiot). At least you have a legit excuse and weren’t just completely forgetful. Hopefully my stupidity gave you a tiny smile
I am so sorry. It must be so frustrating. It’s difficult but it is best for your health!
Oh Kat, that’s really disappointing. I’m so sorry to hear this. You’ve worked so hard and it must have been so tough to make this decision. Just remember that no one can take all that work away from you. You’ve done AMAZING and, because you’re holding off now, you’re going to be able to keep running. Hope you feel better soon!
Oh Kat, I’m so, so, sorry. My heart goes out to you. I’m so proud of you for making this decision. It’s one I can’t make. I wish I could. But, you’re stronger than me, girl. You will get through this. You have a long road ahead of you, full of beautiful runs and races.
Oh, no! You’ve been such a rock-star-runner and training for so long! I know that its probably no consolation at a time of intense disappointment, but you are so right to trust your gut and not press on and risk your health. You have been such a constant support of inspiration and motivation in my own journey as a runner. I have no doubt in the world that you will run a marathon.
I’m so sorry to hear this
I can only imagine how frustrating this is, but it is definitely the right decision. You have the rest of your life to get to the starting line, and I know you will after you let yourself heal. One race is never worse injuring yourself permanently! You WILL get to the starting and finish line one day, and it will be even sweeter because of everything you’ve been through. If you need a proverbial shoulder to cry / bitch on, I’m always hear to listen 
What!?!? Oh no! I am so sorry. You’ve been working so hard. Already what you’ve accomplished in your training is such an achievement–a new finish line crossed each and ever day. Girl, you might have been just a little bit shy of a full marathon, but you went FAR. Way farther than I’ll ever go (although I realize that isn’t saying much…). Take care of yourself, drink lots of pumpkin lattes, and each lots of gourmet chocolate. And drink wine. And then eat more chocolate. And get a massage. And then eat more chocolate. You rock!
Sweetie – you have so many gifts that you have already gathered in because you said yes to the training. We are a family that has to have a destination but you have been raised to know how important it is to savor the journey too. There is a 26.2 out there somewhere with your number on it……
My heart hurts for you. But you WILL run a marathon and you won’t be a “former runner”. Think of how far you’ve come!!!
Oh girlie, I am so sorry to hear this! You just have to remember that you’ve already acheived so much, and it’s good that you’re not destroying yourself completely by becoming a “former runner”. There will be other races, but you only have one pair of legs. And I’m pretty sure you want to be able to use those legs to run past October. I hope that you’re able to heal up (and I bet you are too) as soon as you can, even if that means resting your body up.
Oh man, this totally broke my heart. But you know, as far as “big picture” goes, it’s better for you to take a step back and focus on your health. It’s a painful decision you’ve made, but we’re all behind you and think it’s the right one to make. *Virtual hugs*
I feel your pain, because I too will not make it to the start line of a race that i was so excited to run. (knee pain)
There will be other races and all your readers are sending you lots of support and get better wishes.
I know you’re so disappointed, and that breaks my heart. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my 48 years, it’s that things tend to happen for a reason and this set back may lead to even greater things. So dry your tears, take care of yourself first and foremost, take a deep breath, and start again once you’re well. It’s not the set-backs that shape our lives, it’s how we deal with them. I have no doubt whatsoever that you’ll come through this with flying colors and more determination than ever. PS – If I could, I’d give you a big bear hug and a big steaming caramel mocha latte. (( hugs ))
Oh no! This is such sad news. I wish I had something wonderful to say but I just don’t because this sucks soooo much! Hang in there:)
It’s been inspiring to hear about your progress thus far and, while it’s clear that this was a really tough decision for you, it sounds like it’s the right one to allow you to keep working (healthily) toward your ultimate goal – even if it doesn’t happen exactly when you thought. Hang tough!
Kat! I just want to give you a big hug! I am so sorry to hear that you won’t be running the marathon. But from the bottom of my heart, you made the right decision. Taking care of your body is the most important thing you can do. There’s always another race so don’t beat yourself up about it. You’ll know when the time is right to get back on the horse! Just remember, you’re a ROCKSTAR!
Oh, Bunny!! I feel for you so bad! I’ve had some great workout streaks and then been hit by an illness or, you know, PREGNANCY and a c-section, and no matter how much I wanted to break THE RULES and play through the pain, I’m always glad I didn’t. But the grief kind of consumed me. Brighter days are ahead, my dear! Let me know if you need a cannoli run. Or I’m glad to let you drown sorrows in one of my new fave wines that features sheep.
Pingback: Train to Minimize Injury | Tenaciously Yours,