Time heals all Wounds, if you let it.
As my last blog indicated, as an injured, aspiring [non] Olympian I was unsure of how watching the Olympics would sit with me. I imagined I’d need to force myself, like a good little American, to turn on NBC and get through it. 🙂
Maybe a solid week of gymnastics broke me in, I don’t know, but by the time track came on I was streaming every race I could and stalking Flotrack like it was my job (I love you guys by the way. Not romantically, but close).
All this while I’m on “vacation” in Hawaii. As my Aussie GF Georgie and I were climbing volcanos, snorkeling, or hiking to waterfalls, every iPhone photo op was followed by a cheeky peek at twitter for an update. Pretty sure I was driving her crazy, but since Georgie missed out on London too, we knew a vacation during the Olympic Games would  require tolerance of weird adjustment behavior.
To be honest, in my post-Olympic Trials emotional detox, I was surprised how much I cared. What made me so captivated? I suspect two things: without my own race to focus on, my head wasn’t up my own arse. That and thanks to being social in Daegu last year, I know lots of people on the Olympic team (and not just the skinny white people for once).
The night of the 5k prelim was the only night that really sent me reeling. Since it was in the middle of the night, I intended to sleep through it and hit the internet in the morning. Glance at the results, move on. But then I woke up from a deep sleep at EXACTLY the minute the first heat of the 5k started. That is not hyperbole. It literally happened. How messed up is that? Talk about programming the body for something!
As Georgie slept peacefully, I stalked Flotrack’s tweets from my bed for every update until it was over. The results? Molly Huddle (SB), Julie Culley (PR), and my teammate Sally Kipyego made the final with incredible races, and Kim Conley didn’t get through but ran a PR. A great showing. Nobody bombed; nobody left me feeling like I would have done it better.
[Insert 45 minutes of staring at the wall here]
I needed my trusted therapist of 16 years: The Run. Running is so much more to me than a job or a way to test my potential. Running is “move, sweat, process, move on.” With running I’ve set goals, won championships, flushed out ideas for writing, started two businesses, developed friendships, grown up. My run is meditation, prayer, therapy, and source of pleasure and pain. Problem was, just like the previous 43 days I needed my “therapist”, I remembered for the ONE THOUSANTH TIME she was unavailable due to injury. The injured runner is like a recent amputee victim, continually forgetting that the limb isn’t there, crestfallen at each realization. What we need more than anything is a suitable prosthetic and an attitude adjustment.
[more wall staring]
At 2am, I finally went for an absurdly long walk along the ocean, found a hammock, got horizontal, and stared at the stars. Alone for the first time in weeks, I quieted my mind. I listened to the waves. The trade winds blew my hair around my face and brushed the ink-black palm trees across the charcoal canvas sky.
I wanted the wind to take away my discontent, my edges. I imagined the top of my body opening like a casket and the wind blowing across everything inside me, taking with it all the pieces that had come loose and scattering them like confetti in front of a fan. I cried, but not like I feared I would. They were noiseless tears, and afterwards I felt clean. The wind continued to blow my hair and my shirt but I felt no resistance inside me.
Ah, that’s better, I thought. It’s only going to get better from here. A smile crossed my lips. You know what would be great right now? A moonlight run.
Those of us with “regular lives” think that the life of an athlete is glorious and wonderful, but we forget that everyone has struggles, everyone has challenges that are greater than just trying to run fast or trying to earn a living. Thank you very much for sharing this part of yourself with us, to remind us all that we each need to face our demons, to trust in the universe and do the right things for ourselves to make ourselves better.
To many, the heroes of the Olympics are the champions, but there are also heroes who commit themselves mind, body and soul to the goal and do not get a medal. You are an example in victory and in defeat, in good times and in bad. Jeez, sounds like a marriage. 🙂 We all have to struggle each and everyday to find ourselves and do the right things in this world.
Also, maybe you should give hubby lessons on what to pack.
Thanks Jamie for your comment. I look at “Champion” as a lifestyle. It’s an approach to adversity, a desire to fight.
P.S. I just bought a MacBook Air too (blog stalked you). LOVE IT!
This is incredible. It shows all that pain an athlete feels through injury, the heartbreak and sadness, but you do it in such an uplifting and positive way.
Your an extremely talented writer too!
Thank you
Thanks for your comment Daniel.
Lauren–I think you could have done a little better, depending how close to 100% you would have been. If you had been truly fit, I think you would have had an excellent chance to have been in the medal hunt, because I think you have the talent to run a race like that final panned out to be.
Thanks Blake. Guess we’ll never know!
That’s for sure. But hey, you got to go to Hawaii, right?
But at least you can look at the clean slate right know, knowing you still “have it.” You proved that last year by finishing 7th at WC without being particularly close to 100%, either. If you were 37, you might have reason for doubt; but you’re still in the prime of your life. There’s a lot of fight left in those legs!
You continue to be a fine example of all the good our sport represents. My 14 yr old is about to begin her first year of XC and after being lucky enough to witness your Eugene semi and final, she understands that it isn’t always going to be about the wins and PRs, but leaving it all on the track is what counts.
So. “C” for courage and a bigger one as cheers for a full recovery
Thanks Ed. Please tell your daughter I said to kick some butt this season. HS XC is the best.
Well I did start her off with a Believe I Am training journal which she uses religiously…and Picky Bars too, natch (tho I take those for myself too)
“I needed my trusted therapist of 16 years: The Run. Running is so much more to me than a job or a way to test my potential. Running is “move, sweat, process, move on.” With running I’ve set goals, won championships, flushed out ideas for writing, started two businesses, developed friendships, grown up. My run is meditation, prayer, therapy, and source of pleasure and pain. Problem was, just like the previous 43 days I needed my “therapist”, I remembered for the ONE THOUSANTH TIME she was unavailable due to injury. The injured runner is like a recent amputee victim, continually forgetting that the limb isn’t there, crestfallen at each realization. What we need more than anything is a suitable prosthetic and an attitude adjustment.”
Lauren, this so spoke to my heart. I’m in month four of recovering from some vicious tendinitis. I had it on my right side for a month, it resolved itself, and then magically appeared on my left side along with some spontaneous PF in the middle of Grandma’s Marathon giving me a DNF and an additional two months of recovery. Woohoo party-on, right?
It took me until last week (after a few short runs – my PT says we can start progressively introducing them) to realize that the thing that has been missing from my life since late April is a feeling of “normalcy.” The only near-acceptable prosthetic is self-compassion and the only attitude we can have if we’re to push through and survive this is patience.
And now apparently I’ve become That Person and written you a novel – I didn’t know I had so much to share. What I’ll leave you with: It does not matter how slowly you go, so long as you do not stop.
Kat, you are so right. Self compassion is key, and patience. It’s almost as if nothing will heal until you can let it all go, forgive yourself for things getting effed up in the first place, and avoid putting any pressure on when it should be healed by. Letting go is the hardest part. At least for me 🙂
As a female athlete entering my senior year of high school this was my big track season to impress the university coaches. For months I had my hopes, dreams, and training set on winning the 3000 m at the Canadian youth nationals and running a big pr. After a rocky month of training and multiple doctors visits through June, in July it was finally determined that I was severely anemic- I was unable to run at all for a few weeks and it basically felt like my life was over. As if that wasn’t bad enough, my mom went to nationals as coach for our team and felt the need to send me constant text updates. To hear of an elite athlete’s experience that is so relatable and similar to my own (I def know what the wall staring and tears are like) is completely inspiring and motivates me to just power back into the cross season like nobody’s business! Thanks!
That sounds like it sucked big time! Dang! Yeah, you feel me there. Just remember your best years are ahead of you. Run for you and nobody else. I’m sure you’ll get some great performances in and get the colleges’ attention as a byproduct of that. And just a piece of advice and encouragement…I didn’t get a scholarship my freshman year at Stanford. If you are being recruited and a school is reluctant to take a financial risk on you but you love the school, ask them if you can earn a scholarship as a sophomore if you prove yourself. You never know! Worked for me. All the best girl. Keep in touch.
First, let me say that you are an amazing writer. Please consider writing novel. If you don’t already, I really hope that you can appreciate how much your story inspires others not to give up or give in. I injured my foot running and spent a week on the couch eating too many carbs in front of the TV. I eventually woke up from my carb coma when I realized that people like yourself find a better way to cope with life’s misfortunes and I was only dealing with a minor injury. I have since found a more constructive way to cope and move on. Thanks for sharing and I hope you can meet up with your therapist soon.
That’s the amazing thing about this sport: it can be a job, but it will always be personal. It’s hard to imagine people in other sports feeling the lack of their sport in quite the same way. Do soccer players feel the need to just kick something in between practices and matches? Do gymnasts get the urge to tumble first thing in the morning? It’s just hard to imagine any sport being more portable, relevant, or personal.
Another Classic. Makes me wanna Grampy shuffle up the mountain road I live on right now.
Ah! I love your comparison of an injured runner to an amputee. As a currently injured runner, this spoke to me! Awesome post.
Well written as usual. Awesome metaphors. Hope the rest of your summer and fall is amazing! You deserve it. And, hope you can see your therapist soon.
Side note: it amazes me how quickly once back from injury you take “the therapist” for granted. And, then when she might be taken away from you, you appreciate it all over again…
Side note 2: this post made me change my attitude towards long runs. so, thanks.
Good luck, LFT!
Superbly written. You’ve put into words my thoughts over the past 8 months while unable to run. I’m not sure what I am supposed to have learned through this experience; just that I’ll be happy to have my therapist, my social group, that piece of my life back!
Deep and honest. Truly powerful writing, especially those last three paragraphs. I’ve been without my running therapist due to injury and completely understand what you are saying, yet can’t understand it all because I wasn’t missing the Olympics because of it. Thank you for sharing and helping us understand.
Laura, what an honest reccount. Sometimes it’s too easy to forget that professional athletes have highs and lows too; it’s not all glamour and highlights of the montages we see on TV. Such a powerful piece, I really appreciate you sharing it. Love & Courage x
I firmly believe your fastest running times are ahead of you. But your some of your best writing is already here. Thank you for sharing it girlfriend!
I think you should strike while the iron is hot…write a book.
Thank you for for such an honest and incredibly refreshing piece of mind. I am not an an elite athlete and I still feel the pain of disappointment on a regular basis. It’s all relative and we’re all aloud to have it. And aren’t we lucky that in some crazy way it makes us stronger, and eventually, makes us who we are? I will definitely be sharing this one. Again, thanks.
What an incredible read!
You are already a hero of mine, for being a coach and a mentor, and the ad hoc mayor of running in Eugene. And I already was so touched by the starting line speech you gave at the EWH, but having read this, that speech is even more precious to me.
Thanks for living your life on the outside. And thanks for Pickybars. And the amazing photographs. You are very talented.
Fiberliza
Thanks Fiberliza. And congrats again on your PR at the Eugene Women’s Half on Sunday. 🙂
Your sharing motivates me……..YES……we all do have down, dark moments, racing results and experiences. Your strength and courage are positive energy for me. I just signed up for my 21st Ironman race…I wasn’t going to…I did!
Wow, you are an excellent writer. Your description of the listening to the winds by the beach put me there for a moment, and it was peaceful.
Have you ever thought about writing a book?
Lauren! i was thinking of you during the Olympics and I know how painful it must have been for you- but your attitude and vulnerability towards it, makes you so relateable and loveable. i’m rooting for you and know that your big moment is still to come. don’t give up! xo
Lauren – let me add my voice to the chorus of those suggesting you write a book! Maybe something for you to think over next time your therapist is available?
Also, thanks for never quitting. I’m training for my first marathon right now, and whenever I’m tempted to cut my long runs short I try to remember your courage and perseverance. It’s usually enough to keep me going – and when it’s not I grab a Picky Bar. 🙂
I hear your words and they speak to me as well…I ran track and came oh so close to the Olympics and of course what pushed me and what i loved was the action of running, the feeling of movement, the air in my lungs and against my skin in all weather and then add in some competition which pushes one to the ultimate and one emerges after a run and a race sort of reborn in a glorious place where we all know we worked really hard and are now enjoying the reward of having worked hard, close to our potential, with new and old friends and we have a shared bond…
Best of luck and keep moving!
Lauren- So often when the olympics roll around we only pay attention to the champions and the winners, but its blogs like yours that tell the story that far more of us can relate to. The way you handle and write about your dissapointment with such honesty, and then the way you manage to work through it, is so admirable. It makes me want to persevere through my own issues. If you wrote a book I’d preorder it tomorrow.
I will chime in suggesting that you write a book! we both know it won’t distract you from coming back stronger and faster (and perhaps more awesome although that might not be possible) to your first love as you blaze into the 2016 Olympics!
Holy sh*t — Jeeps are tough. I’m buying a Jeep!
Glad you were able to enjoy it. If you’d been there with a normal prep I’m sure you’d have been up there with the English girls. Maybe 5th (which is better than 4th). Hope you get to race at the World Champs next year.
wow what a wonderful post! I loved your descriptiveness at the end. I am so glad you got through it all. You are even more of an inspiration now than ever!
Hey Lauren,
That was poignant. The imagery and intensity of the moments during that night must have seemed surreal. I am happy you smiled after and know how that moonlight run would have been pure bliss. Looking forward to what you take on in the future and hope your body heals fast and brings you more strength than ever. Your still young.
On another note- Picked up some “Picky Bars” at Rogue Valley Runners, (Hal Koerner and all the trail runners down here are killing it). I was in need for extra healthy, packable, ultra marathon food, other than gu for my race at Mckenzie River 50k, so thank you for making these tasty snacks. I am looking forward to trying the caffeine one out- fo show!
Love your passion
Awesome post Lauren. I don’t think I could ever imagine what you went through, and to think that you still can’t get out and run the way you want to, need to….
Awesome pictures too! Did you take those? Don’t tell me they are with an iPhone. You may want to invest in a DSLR. Photography may be another form of therapy that will help.
Have you read Alberto Salazar’s book? Seems like it would resonate with you.
Great to hear an update Lauren! I’ve been having a bit of trouble with running therapist number 1 lately but we’re getting along better now and I’ve been getting more and more motivated for upcoming races but I do think that the icing on the motivation cake is going to be the return of running therapist number 2 Lauren Fleshman Blog! Yeah!
Also, I will I admit that I didn’t get through every comment, but there was one quite far up there about gymnasts wanting to bounce of things upon getting up in the morning and soccer players having the urge to kick things that aren’t there and what not that I do have a comment about. When I was in my senior year of high school one of the girls on the team had joined just that year to help stay in shape for soccer, train for cross and do a few races. She was struggling through the last kilometer of the race, and I went back when I was done to try and help her out and cheer her on. She was struggling to keep running and not walk but at 4+ k into the 5k race kept saying to me ‘I’m just having trouble convincing myself I’m kicking the ball- its getting harder to pretend its there.’ The best way she knew how to keep working was when she lost herself in following the ball and the play and was trying transfer this type of motivation that she knew to a different kind of run. So in my experience, the answer’s yes.
Thanks for another amazing post Lauren! You spoke to exactly what I’m going through. I’ve had a hip injury since last December, and there seems to be no end in sight. At first, I missed the competition of racing and the physical activity and stayed mentally strong with pull buoy swimming, but as the months wore on I realized how dependent I am on running to get me through tough days, to make hard decisions and to just blow off steam.
Thank you so much for writing your blog!