There's Always Another Race

I always thought I believed that. I didn't want to be that runner that would be running in a race when I break eight bones, tear through three muscles, dislocate both hips and develop blisters the size of my head and yet continue running because "I trained really hard for this race!"
I always told myself: if I get injured, I want to be brave enough to stop. Because stopping can take more courage than fighting through the pain.
Since my Whitsunday Race I've been planning on doing the Hobart Marathon in January. Because (as I put it) "the stars have aligned".
1. I'm already pre-conditioned for marathon training
2. It works perfectly into my work schedule
3. A destination marathon!
But fate chuckled at my tunnel vision and twisted things around these past few weeks.
When the realization hit last week that I likely wouldn't be running the marathon, I was gutted. But as my mind has readjusted to this new way of thinking, it's become a bit of a relief. After all, there's always another race.
On Tuesday I did another speed session. And you know what? I let myself struggle without going into a mental panic. I let myself be slow without berating myself for...well, for being slow.
I even stopped looking at my watch obsessively to see what pace I was at!
Maybe it's life's way of reminding me what time of the year it is. Yes sir, the days are getting warmer, the magpies are swooping in all their territorial glory, and the humidity gage is rising steadily. It all adds up to mean one thing: off season.
I have one more race planned - the most awesome 500k relay! Woohoo!! - and then nothing. But maybe I should leave it that way.
It's been a pretty darn good season after all.