I didn’t run the race
Yesterday was America’s Finest City Half Marathon.
There were two medals there waiting for me and a packet with my name on it- all that went unclaimed.
Even though I accepted a couple weeks ago that I would not be running this race, it’s still sad to come to terms with. The race is over. I can’t change my mind now. There’s no going back.
I know this was the right decision. I know in my heart, soul, and gut that there are a number of factors that I would have had to push way too hard- and likely hurt myself- to make that race reality. I’m really happy with what I chose to do this past weekend instead of doing the race. I know in the end, it’s the right decision. But I had a lot of time and training invested in that race. I had already visualized the volunteers at the end putting both medals on my exhausted but happy body. I had looked at the race course and thought about how each mile would feel and how I’d pose for the pictures this time. I’d even picked out my outfit.
Like I said, I had a lot invested in this race.
I’m only human, so I didn’t know the best way to go about not running this. Do I try and sell my ticket online at a discount so I can recover some of the costs? Do I call them ahead and talk about my injury and how I wouldn’t be able to run? Do I go anyway and pick up my packet so I can at least get the t-shirt?
I don’t know. I don’t know how to do these things. I don’t know the best way. I don’t know if I did the best thing. I just distracted myself in other work and -though I accepted I wouldn’t be running- I didn’t give up my registration because I think I held out a sliver of hope that maybe my foot would magically heal and all my issues would go away and I could do it after all.
But that didn’t happen. And it can’t happen now. It’s passed. Things change. There’s no going back. I will not get that T-shirt or those medals or pose for those race pics in the perfect outfit I chose.
And that’s ok. But may take a bit to accept.
And I think I’m still taking about the race…right?