Ran

In 2016 I ran.  I actually began in late 2015.  I ran my first race, the Berkeley 10K in November of 2015.  From November to November I completed almost a dozen 5K or 10K races and one 12K.  This coming Saturday I was to run my first 15K, but unfortunately I won’t be.

My life as a runner may be over. The hysterectomy and vaginal vaulting surgery that I had at the end of 2014 failed last week. My bladder has prolapsed (collapsed) into my vagina. I see the surgeon this coming Friday, but even if she can repair it; it will be a while.  I worry that she’s going to caution against running for some time, if ever again. I am devastated. 

I began running to tackle a funk I couldn’t get out from under.   It helped.  Then my pancreas revolted, and running became one of the most effective methods of dealing with the pain.  It was not an easy road. I had multiple injuries and have been struggling the last several months with metatarsel arthritis, but none of it stopped me cold in my tracks.

The biggest obstacle, I think, was that I didn’t see myself as a runner.  That’s where the races came in.  With a race, I had to train.  Then during the race, I was running with people.  At the end, there I was with a shirt and a medal, and a bib:  evidence that I was a runner.  

Sometime in mid 2016 I became a runner in my own head.  It is remarkable how much the adoption of an identity changes the way you see yourself – the standards that you set for yourself, the allowances you give yourself.  The loss of seeing myself as a runner is almost as great as the loss of the actual activity.