DNF is a hard pill to swallow, even if it's not your A, or B, or C race for that matter. More than just the initial disappointment and whatever caused the misfortune in the first place, DNFs cast a looming and lingering sense of defeat every time you think about the race, see that race shirt in the closet, and hear someone talks about the race. I hope I could report a race of triumphant perseverance, but this is not the case.
Since I have written reports on my good races this year, I feel that it's important that I include this one, too. The short story is that I pulled my abductor muscle earlier this week, took two days off, hoped for the best, and toed the start line. When the increasing pain urged me to stop at the aid station at mile 14, I realized I could barely lift my leg up pass 45 degrees. At that point, I realized I had to either take the DNF, or finish the race with an injury.
Compounding the disappoint is the knowledge that I am not able earn my finisher's hoodie and award made by my friend, Derek. And to end this year with a DNF is very humbling. Never take running for granted, nor getting into a pair of pants, nor climbing into a bathtub.
I love humbleness! Keeps it real.
ReplyDeleteYou are such an incredible athlete Phyllis!
For an even better 2014!
Ouch!! I do feel your pain!
ReplyDeleteBut you did the right thing! You are an amazing runner with many, many more races ahead of you!! You were just being smart. We ultra runners should be pushing our own personal limits . . . and those change with every run and every race.
You did awesome and you KNOW you'll come back smarter and faster! You just may not get that hoodie you want!! Hand in there!! There will be more barriers that life will throw up in front of you . . . and you'll tear each one up!!!