My mom is a mom through and through. She’s proud, loving, supportive, and encouraging. But she can also occasionally get concerned for my well-being when it comes to athletic endeavors. I guess it comes naturally as, over the years, she has watched me take a few spills over the hurdles and stagger or limp across finish lines. She asked one day, “Do you know how to race smartly, listen to your body, and say “stop” before it’s too late?” I’ve had a few not-so-great instances where I’ve pushed too hard. I'd like to think I’ve learned from them so I responded that of course I knew how to race smartly. Yet this winter/early spring, I actually wondered whether I did.
Running in a trail race over the winter, I rolled one of my ankles numerous times. Twice I actually fell from the twists. As I was on the ground contemplating what to do after the 2nd time, I decided, “If I wince when I stand up, I’m done. If I can continue to run, I will slow down and run carefully because this race isn’t worth risking my whole triathlon race season.” I stood, shook it out, and was able to continue on, albeit at a slower and more cautious pace. I was proud of myself for thinking with my head and not going on pride, until… About a ½ mile from the finish, I rolled the other ankle bad enough that it took me a few seconds to catch my breath from the sudden pain. At that point, because I had to get out of the woods anyway, I figured I'd finish so I hobbled to the finish, conceding 1st place in the process. In the end, I had minor sprains to both ankles, both of which have healed nicely. However, on further reflection, I realized that honestly, maybe I don’t know how to run as smartly as I thought I did. My mom would be proud that I at least entertained the thought of dropping out and not worrying about the DNF. But given that I wasn’t smart enough to stop and that I put myself at risk for a more serious injury which could have blown a portion of or all of the summer race season, she wouldn’t be proud. So I guess that I can say that I only made her partially proud but learned that maybe I don’t know how to race as smart as I thought. Upon reflection, what I've really learned is that with respect to training, racing, and life in general, is I have a new standard I should really measure myself against, "Would my mom be proud that I persevered?”