Track and Field Blogs - Anna Thieben

Track season, of my senior year in high school, was the pits. I didn't know until two weeks before the season ended that I was anemic. I didn't know why my legs were heavy, why I couldn't breathe when I was running, why it took me a half an hour to get out of bed once I had woken up in the morning. I attributed to laziness, to senioritis (which I really didn't have), and the spring show which started after the musical and ran concurrently with track. I suppose left untended long enough I could have expired from it.

I found out that I had anemia, not by going to the doctor, but by deciding, one night after dinner, to take some vitamins. I know, I know - I should have been taking them all along - but I'd always forget. The next morning, for the first time in what seemed like forever - I was alive. I just remember sticking my hand in the air upon regaining conciousness as a victory symbol. It was so wasy to get out of bed that morning.

But then the two weeks past, and track was over. And there I was, with times not even close to my previous xc season, which in my eyes was incredibly successful. I lost everything. I was back at the beginning. And I tried, I tried to train and regain what I had lost. It didn't go so well. I went from being a MOP to a BOP when I visited, as an alumni, the xc preseason - which would now be last year's.

It was incredibly discouraging. I was disheartened, embarrassed even. And so, sooo very frustrated. More than anything else, I was mad. And so as my first year of college picked up, I ceased to run. Occasionally I'd get out there, but for the most part I stopped.

And why? Why? At the time I attributed it to a new place, new stress, even not wanting to do it. Me? I love running, though - so why wouldn't I want to do it?

The answer isn't simple, and I didn't figure it out until I went on vacation this past summer. I went on vacation with one of my best friends and her family, and we tried, or planned, rather, to make the vacation a "fitness" week.

So, in the evenings we'd run together. It was the end of July, and for me the first major runs to happen since I first got home from school (may). So, we'd run in the evenings. And the one day, I don't know what happened exactly, but I couldn't keep up, I couldn't do it. Physically I just sucked. And so I deviated from our path, sat on a bench, cried, went back to the camp site, cried (not in front of people, just the dogs. One comforted me, it was very sweet.)

And as I sat there, huddled, and .... drippy a thought came into my head - and suddenly, suddenly I understood why I had avoided running all year. I couldn't face the fact that I had to start over, that I had been reduced to a terrible runner - with crappy times. I was in denial. If I didn't run, I couldn't see the damage, I wouldn't feel it. I could pretend I was good.

And as I realized this, I said to myself - Anna, you can either give up running forever and be absolutely miserable for the rest of your life, or you can stop being such a crybaby and work back up to how good you were - and then surpass that.

I prefer the latter.

Because it's true - I really was miserable. I felt inadequate, the massive amount of stress that I had to go through during my first year of college ate me up and just didn't make me a very happy person. I don't ever want to be in a position where I have to give up running again. I consider starting to run one of the best decisions I've ever made - because it's a challenge and a victory every day.

I mean, the last grass time trial I did I timed to be at a 8:01 pace. No, it's not as good as I used to do - but it's not 10 either! For the longest time I couldn't break back into speed. Now I can, and I tell you I was exstatic when I got a 9:40 pace on my mostly hills, yet beloved, 3.2 mile loop. I am back in the game, and I will never turn away from it again - running will always be a part of me, and I'm not willing to let it be a part filled with regrets.