It was a low-energy day. Actually, it's been a low-energy week. I guess my irrational exuberance overexerted my physical capabilities this weekend (10 mi run, weights, 50 mile hilly bike, and 5 mile snow shoe). The mind was willing but the body not. Needless to say, I've taken a recovery week.
Today was the week's low point. Everything that's happened to me these last few months just sucker-punched me, knocking the wind out of me. A deep, heavy loneliness settled in around my head like a thick fog. I had things I needed to do but absolutely couldn't find the energy to get them done. I'm hanging in there. I'm fighting the heaviness pressing in against the emptiness inside. Days like this are inevitable.
I took a hot shower, breathed deeply and slowly in and out a few times and reminded myself, "This too shall pass." I am reminded of moments during my Ironmans. Each one required me to pass throught the deepest and darkest chasms to reach the finish line. Each time, blinded with agony, too exhausted to continue, I faltered in disbelief. Reaching the finish was impossible. I momentarily gave up.
Somehow, each and every time, something inside picked myself up and gave me the will to continue. Even when I had the stomach flu in Ironman Canada. Each time, I looked at my watch and gave myself 5 minutes. "I just have to endure this for the next 5 minutes, and then, it will be better." And it worked every time. Numbness followed the pain, encompassing me in a comforting blanket of relief giving me respite. Endorphin-induced euphoria inevitably follows, making everything better again.
During days when I'm feeling low, like this one, I reflect back on these moments. "Just 5 more minutes, just 5 more minutes." It helps. I know this too shall pass. Yeah, I'm having a bad day but I'm okay. I'll get through it. I always do. Besides, I have a long, group training run tomorrow morning. And, I'm actually really looking forward to it.