Sunday, May 3, 2020

Mental Stages

For most of my life, I have observed hundreds of people who have existed with some level of mental health issue. I use the word “issue” carefully here, as I do not wish to offend or cause harm to anyone I know, who is battling some form of mental stress in their lives. However, for the lack of a better word, “issue” works as a way to provide a broad term for much of what I have witnessed, even when I didn’t know exactly what it was.

As a kid, I grew up with other kids who battled demons of many colors (to use a different set of words to describe mental battles). I am positive that some were diagnosed and some were not, but it did not limit the severity of any of them, for everyone that struggles is facing something very real, whether the outside world sees it or not. All throughout my childhood, teen years, and early adult life, I believed myself to be fortunate to not have any of these so-called “issues”, imagining myself impervious. To be quite fair, I was rather smug about my level of invincibility. As you might imagine, this is quite the set-up to the story.

But before we get too far, please recognize that I have been right there to sympathize with many friends, and even strangers, regarding things like anxiety, depression, suicidal tendencies, addiction, overwhelming grief, and other “issues” that I thought I was immune to. Perhaps I was naive. Or perhaps I believed I was made differently in order to be the support that others needed. Regardless, I have moved through life having a rather solid grip on my mental health, trusting that I was able to rise above any sort of malady that might come my way. And believe me, it sounds funny to write that just as much as you might have found it funny to read it.

A few years ago, circumstances began to change in such a way that certain feelings were exposed about my past, while laying bare weaknesses in my misperceived armor. If it were one singular thing, I suppose it could be managed, but this has been many things and I now find myself seeking help that I have never sought before.

Here’s what this looks like for me, just as a way to share. I recognize there is much in this life that is outside our base control. I have always been good at letting the vast majority of these uncontrollables drift by without affecting me, knowing that I can control my reactions. By letting most stuff just be, and by remaining indifferent, I have avoided any emotion that is often attached to reaction. While this has been good, it has also been bad. For many years, I have been viewed as rather heartless, even in the face of the death of a loved one, for which I simply do not mourn. I have always been the stoic type, and not because it’s some manly way to be, or I think it’s cool, but just because it’s how I’ve always been. I don’t know why I’m that way, but I am. I have always been that guy.

But I have always been a rational guy too, along with being analytical and thoughtful, especially when it comes to proactive thought. So when I started to get besieged by a litany of things that were beyond my control, they created emotion that I could not come to terms with in my usual indifferent way. I began to find myself troubled. I reached out to a few people, in hopes of being able to just talk, but much of that was to no avail. 

I think it’s fair to say that most of us are bar stool therapists, in that we are able to sympathize with a buddy that is going through something in his/her life. We all have the ability to listen, although some are certainly better than others, and we can relate to one another on some plane. Mostly, we do our best to encourage one another because we remember when we went through something similar, so we provide a shoulder, an ear, and maybe a couch, all in an effort to help a friend who is going through a tough time.

But what happens when it’s more than that? If I’m being completely honest, I have attempted to offer advice in the face of great adversity, including that of mental illness. There have been a few times that I felt remorseful for having said anything, recognizing that I am simply unqualified. And this makes me realize that most of us are in that same boat, meaning that reaching out to a friend about serious issues is probably not very wise, and instead sets them up in a very unfair way. 

Fortunately, I have a couple of outlets in lieu of a counselor (which I really ought to seek). Running continues to be my greatest way to reset my brain. When I can disappear from humanity for a few hours, I find balance within my thoughts. Another way that helps me is to write. To some degree, the mess in my head becomes less so when I can take some of it out and put it down on paper (or Google Docs). I have also turned to music as a way to relax, as well as reading. Those are lesser ways but they are still effective at times, depending on the moment.

The purpose of writing all of this down is to create some sense of accountability for something I have long avoided, which is to say that I am wrestling with some demons. Frankly, I believe that talking (and writing and running) through these things is very beneficial for me, but I know that not everyone feels the same. And so I am just stating where I am at, in this format, for anyone and everyone to see that there are a lot of ways to grapple with what goes on in the mind. My feelings and issues are minor (at least it feels that way to me) and I am working through them, in stages.

Wednesday, April 29, 2020

Picking it up

This is the weirdest season ever, seriously. I keep messing up the day of the week, often thinking it is the day before it actually is. To some degree, this is not a bad thing, especially when I think it’s a Thursday and it’s actually a Friday. But it’s also a sign of how so many of our days just run together without differentiation. It can be disconcerting. 

Maybe you’re feeling the same way, and if you are, please know that this new normal cannot last. Eventually we will get back to some semblance of how things were in our lives before the pandemic. However, I would like to suggest that maybe a few of the things we have experienced during this time, are things that we keep doing in the future. Perhaps you can think of some of the positives that have arisen. I, for one, am loving the intentionality of giving people more space. This is not to say that I don’t wish to greet people in a more natural way, such as with a hug, but there is a distinct difference in the consideration of others when we give them comfortable space, instead of crowding them for no other reason than you think it’s just the way it is. 

Perhaps this is the bigger lesson here, that we become more considerate of one another. Shouldn’t that be a desire for us regardless? Surely, but as busy as we are, who truly takes the time to be extra observant of those around them? I am sure that as you read this, you believe you are observant of others, and that you are considerate of the people in your sphere of influence. The important part to remember is that your sphere of influence is not about the people you like, but about every person you come into contact with on a daily basis. Read that again… EVERY PERSON you come into contact with on a daily basis.

If we are required to give people a little extra space during this time, then perhaps we can keep that up once things open back up a bit. This means in your driving, your shopping, your activities in any public space, and even your workplace. Does this really seem so far-fetched?

Sunday, April 19, 2020

Roller Coaster

Over the years, I have gone through moments of what I would call great writing success. In those moments, I wrote a lot. There have also been times where I have written little, or none at all. I suppose this is probably no different than a lot of us, who go through the ups and downs of life, when there are moments of clarity, or great insight, or depression & sadness, or a litany of other emotions or reasons why our lives often resemble that of a roller coaster. Where are you right now, on this so-called ride?

Current world events notwithstanding, each of us must determine how to approach the realization of each up, down, twist, turn, or roll. Typically, as each of these moments approach, we can see, or sense, something is coming. At that point, we make choices. 

Picture yourself in that roller coaster car. Are you the one with your hands up, smiling, taking it all in, eyes wide open, thankful for the ride? Are you the one with your eyes closed, screaming, muscles tensed, bracing for every move? Are you about to pass out? About to throw up? About to cry?

To me, it seems like each circumstance determines its own reaction, which in turn has its own set of unique choices. You might be the one who is smiling right now, but you might also be very private about your joy, choosing to keep this moment to yourself. You could be very fearful about this next turn, which could lead you to either shrink into your own self-doubt, or it could lead you to spread that fear to others. Regardless, there are a lot of choices involved, and believe it or not, you have control over nearly every one of them.

In my own life, the past few years have had their fair share of tough times. But there have also been a few mountain top moments too. The choices I make today are often refined by the choices I have made at those low moments, perhaps when I have had time to reflect. Are you in one of those low moments right now? Have you taken the time to reflect on past decisions and future outcomes? Are there regrets? Does sorrow outweigh your joy?

Every roller coaster seems to start with a climb and then a great fall. But throughout the ride there are plenty of other low moments that always seem to be followed by high ones, all ending with a bit of a gentle roll into the station. The low spot you find yourself in is invariably to be short-lived. Another high point is coming. And to get there, you may have to climb out. Slowly. Take heart. You’ll get there.

Tuesday, December 31, 2019

A look back at 2019

Here we are, at the precipice of another year. These past 12 months have been a blur, of sorts, with many ups, but certainly a few downs. From a running perspective, this has been my best year on many fronts, and one that I am trying to look back on with maximum insight.

Earlier this year, a running friend suggested I “have some hubris”, which made me pause. Until recently, running has been a recreational hobby for which I have sought friendships and physical fitness, while also using it to bring me some much needed mental clarity. Running competitively was something I actually fought. So much so that I regularly told my friends that I just didn’t want to spend the money on scores of races because I wasn’t interested in competing. I loved the camaraderie and the places that running took me. The idea of racing seemed foreign and not worth all the work. With that, I raced in a few events but never really trained effectively and chose to be happy with the results. In 2017, a couple of close friends began to push me to race. Their pleas were friendly enough, but they saw something in me that I chose to ignore, because again, it seemed like way too much work. At the end of that year, I signed up for a small, local race, and with the voices of those friends in my ear, I chose to push myself a little more than I had before. The result was a win, which was something I had never experienced before. And just like that, a fire was lit.

Coming into this year, having pushed myself a little in 2018 to distances I had never dreamed of (my first and then second 50K and my first 50 miler), I had been working with a friend who coached me to build a solid base and lay down some fundamentals. The year started out with a bang, as I traveled to Springfield for my first 50K of the season. In what would be symbolic of nearly my entire season, I led from the start and won. There were new feelings inside me that were very strange. How could this be possible? To be honest, I fought some internal voices that told me I was too old, that I didn’t have the pedigree or history in this sport, and that I must have gotten lucky. I didn’t give myself a lot of time before tackling another 50K just 4 weeks later. This race went the exact same way, with me leading from the start and beating the course record by over an hour. This was leading me to my very first 100K in mid-April, and I was petrified.

Getting to that race was daunting, mainly because the idea of running 62 miles seemed ridiculous, but I had begun to learn how to mentally prepare, and by the time I lined up for that event, I had no doubts that I would complete it. I went out easy and yet I still led from start to finish, this time breaking the course record by over an hour and a half. Even with some early season successes, I still had some doubts, but that wasn’t what would eventually do me in when I got to my 50 miler in July. It turns out that I developed a bad case of “cocky” and would end up DNFing after 29 miles, due to the simple fact that I was a moron. Poor sleep, lack of hydration, and arrogance led to a disappointing finish, but I picked myself up, learned from my mistake, and swore not to make that one again. It was just before this race that I also hired a new coach. More on that later.

Heading into August, I was fortunate enough to be on the same ultra relay team that won the 2018 Elkhorn Relay, setting an ultra team record, and an overall course record to boot. We got pumped up for 2019 and knew there was another fast ultra team that would be there. From the start we pushed, and in just a few legs we seemed to be pulling away from the otherguys. But just as we thought we might be leaving them in the dust, they suddenly appeared, overtaking us. We pushed on, passing them again, pulling away. And yet, here they came again. Near leg 31 (of 36 legs), we were told we had built nearly a 2 hour lead. We pushed even harder, knowing they had seemed to appear out of nowhere twice before. Sure enough, in just 3 short legs, they were a mere 4 minutes behind. We didn’t understand. How could this be? As we carried on, it became evident they were picking up their runners at times and driving them forward in an effort to catch us. We were blown away that anyone would do that for a race, but we kept at it nonetheless. In the end, the other team was disqualified, we were crowned the victors, and as had appeared to be customary by this point, we shattered our own course record by nearly 3 hours. The experience was the stuff of movies, and we talked about if for weeks after.

My training had taken me to new levels, thanks to a new coach, who bumped up my mileage and elevation gain far beyond anything I had ever done. My highest mileage year before this one was 2018, where I squeaked past 2,100. My highest elevation gain was also last year, in which I managed just under 160,000 feet. Both of those totals seemed gaudy at the time, and I remember hoping I could come close to those again. Halfway through this year, I was on pace for 3,000 miles and 240,000 feet of gain. I still find those numbers staggering, and yet I am fully aware of what 2020 could be. As I contemplated my stats, I also knew that my first 100 miler had become an active part of my conversations with my coach and close friends. And while I did not attempt one this year, I did enter a lottery for one that would have taken place in late September. When I wasn’t selected in the initial lottery, I pulled my name from the hat and chose instead to find a tough 100K for a late season race. Little did I know what lay ahead.

When I signed up for the NUT 100K, a lot of weird things went through my head. It really was less about the distance, because I had already pulled that off once, but more about the elevation gain, which rivals many 100 milers. I did my best to keep my training and my climbing maxed out in an effort to be as ready as possible. Sidebar; I’m not sure I was ready for that. Still, the day came and I was excited for the opportunity to run in an area I had never been, while also hoping for some high quality competition. The day was ideal, and as is now kind of my modus operandi, I led from the start. There were many times late in the race I was certain someone was coming up behind me, and yet, no one came. I would win my second 100K of the year, along with a sweet new Suunto watch! I still stare in awe at the picture the race organizer took of me finishing. How did I do that? I seem to go back and forth a lot about what I’m truly capable of. And yet, God has given me some cool skills that I am trying hard to use to the best of my abilities.

The first person I called, after finishing, was my wife. Funny thing is she already knew because there was a live feed on FB of the race and she had seen something pop up. The second person I called was my coach. At this point, it is important to point out that I am working hard to listen to someone who has far more experience in racing ultras than I will probably ever have. I am extraordinarily thankful for Sean, but also for my friends who have helped get me this far. Even more, I am insanely thankful for my wife, who has transformed my diet and kept me in line to be as present at home as I am on the trail.

This next year is unknown. Each day is a gift. My goal is to face it head on. I have signed up for my first 100 miler, which happens in late March. I have two 50K’s and a 25K on the books as well. Beyond those, I am planning to chase an even bigger dream, by signing up for a race that has National Team implications. The idea of running and racing for my country is almost overwhelming, but I believe it’s worth chasing. Further, I will seek a Western States qualifier at some point this year, believing I can set an age group record for that event.

I’m not going to lie, I’m having fun with this. There are still struggles to overcome, but as the song says, “I just want to live before I die.”

Wednesday, May 15, 2019

Chasing spring, spying summer

In years past, I tended to stay away from races in the winter, with only a few minor exceptions. I’m not a huge fan of running in deep snow or any kind of ice. If that’s your thing, fantastic. Not me. However, as 2018 came to a close and I began to lay out my plan for racing in 2019, I placed 2 races in the winter season. Both races were of the 50K variety, with one being flat (200’ of gain) and the other being anything but flat (6,000’ of gain). Following those races, I placed my first 100K (ever) at the end of April, in hopes that old man winter would be dead and gone by then.

Fortunately, the snow was long gone by the end of April and I was able to (mostly) enjoy my foray into running 60 miles at once. I could have done without the wind that day, but we powered through. Following that race, I stared hard at the calendar, as it would be 2-1/2 months before my next big race. Fortunately, there is much good that comes in these middle spaces for me. This past weekend, just 2 weeks removed from my 100K, my wife and I split a half marathon together as a race, taking 3rd among teams doing the “relay”. It was fun to see her do so well at just over a 10K distance, with no pain, and smiling at the end. We left there and enjoyed a wonderful breakfast together.

On the first weekend of June, we will get to run together again on a 6 person relay team, all in the name of fun, as the total race distance is only 54 miles, and we will be with friends. The following weekend, our eldest will graduate from high school and a great horde will descend upon our home for a great weekend of celebrating.

As I begin to ratchet my mileage back up, heading further into spring, I am reminded that I am very fortunate to have the support I have. This running community is something I deeply cherish, but more importantly is the team I have at home. My mental state is typically quite good when I am running and maintaining high mileage, but part of that mental state is knowing that I am well taken care of. I can see ahead to the summer and there are 2 major races coming, both being my golden rings for the year. I have high expectations for both, but before getting there, I have to train my socks off. It is humbling to know that the rails are secure beneath me as I carry on.

Run on, friends.