Yesterday I wrote about observing friends in a 5K/10K – here’s the photo of those intrepid athletes. I stole it off the Body Dynamics Facebook page; hope they don’t get annoyed! That’s Barbara on the right (her yellow “I’m a long-distance greyhound” 10K tag is under her pre-race jacket), and lovely Kathryn the therapeutic masseuse is next to her. Then came wise Regina, the biofeedback counselor I’m working with, and Regina’s son (who came, if Regina’s grinning statement is to be believed, because runners got free food).
Aren’t they beautiful?
And isn’t it surprising that this race – a race I didn’t even run – plunged me into a depression?
The thought of doing what they did (or at least what Regina and Kathryn did – the 5K, not the 10K) filled me with a don’t-bother-fighting-just-flight response. It makes me shake my head wordlessly. Attempting to verbalize my feelings, I fall back on “Oh – no. No, no, no. HELL no.”
I don’t want to run that far. I certainly don’t want to run that far in public, with people watching and clapping and encouraging and someone holding a stopwatch. I don’t want to think of me gasping for air while person after person passes me, possibly stopping long enough to say something encouraging or make sure I’m still experiencing a typical heart rhythm… I just don’t want to do that.
And the plan is for me to do it in JUNE. That’s just terrifying.
I’ve run FIVE TIMES. And if Barbara and I continue our pattern of running at the beginning of our Tuesday sessions, that would mean that my twelfth run ever would be a 5K. That’s too much. It’s too soon.
I’m giving this plan the ol’ stiff leg. Not doing it.
But I WILL run a 5K in October, when the Virginia weather breaks and the swelter oven is turned off in our region. By then, I should be able to run more than I walk; by then I might greet the thought of a 5K with mild pleasure instead of paralyzing fear.
I’m stalling – and in one use of the word, “to stall” means to lose engine power and fall out of the sky. I hope my stall doesn’t mean I’ll crash and burn. I don’t have the courage to do a 5K in June – but I’m not giving up. I’m just delaying.
Yes, it feels like failure. On the other hand, I’m no longer scared and anxious. So I’m willing to accept the failure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to work out on the elliptical.