The Mental Battle
Dear Runners,
I have a story to tell. I joined cross country in elementary school in sixth grade as a way to get extra fitness for travel soccer. When I began high school, I joined for the same reason, until my coach and I realized I was actually pretty good. From then on, I joined a club team and dedicated the majority of my non-studying time to running. I had finally found something that seemed to be my /thing/. But even then, I could never be the best. I always finished second in the south western provincial region for my age, which is considered great, until provincials would arrive and I'd realize I'm good, but I will never be great. I still loved it though, and as I progressed through high school, it gave me scholarship and even job opportunities due to my success and team leadership skills. Being the best runner in my high school was exhilarating. But the "you're not good enough" thought never, ever left. It would ruin both XC and track races, it would drive me into pits of depressive episodes where I couldn't bring myself to get up and go for a run. Again, though, I stuck it through. In twelfth grade I had the best cross country season in my high school career. I started the year not intending to compete, thinking I wouldn't be able to be on par with the new age of girls joining the seniors. I ended up excelling and running the university varsity qualifying times (which seemed utterly unreachable), and even qualifying for provincials which I hadn't let myself build up too much hope for. My track season, though, was ridiculously sub par. My times, and I raced from April to August, weren't close to the PBs I ran the year before. My mental health and strength had never been weaker. My training was going decently but I just could not race well and it was infuriatingly frustrating, because I knew where my capabilities were at. I still could not tell you what caused that horrible season, whether it simply be my mental weaknesses, puberty (It was difficult to adjust to my body truly looking like the average woman's), my chronic hip injury, or what. I am now a freshman in university and while I knew varsity cross country was a whole different ball park (or course, you could say) from high school, I did not expect this rough of a transition. I am now a part of a genuine team, a team full of good runners, something I did not even have with my club. While our team is very supportive of one another, the underlying notion is always there- I need to compete against each of my training partners to secure a spot on the team. There are twelve of us; seven girls get to compete at provincials. And I am terrified that I won't be on that championship team. The stakes are high- if I don't make championship squad this year, it is doubtful that my parents, who are paying for my schooling, will allow me to continue varsity running. In workouts, I am always sitting in sixth to eighth, so while I am in the mix, I won't know until I run the first race this weekend. My mental battle is harder than ever. I have had so much time to think about this, and I have come to terms with the fact that sometimes, your fitness isn't enough. The mental battle of cross country is just as important as the physical. That barrier that a runner hits, the moment where you decide whether it is time to push past the wall and realizing your limits were broader than you expected, or where you give up. "It doesn't matter if two girls pass me", or "It isn't my fault", the plethora of thoughts that justify not pushing past the barrier in the race. I am all too familiar with these thoughts, and it is in that moment where you prove just how strong you are. I hope to be able to prove myself this season and win my own mental battle, or war you could say at this point. Stay strong my fellow runners, and don't let cross country become the source of your mental detriment. Your mental health is more important than your times or places, in the end.
That's my story thus far,
Sincerely,
A Runner Trying to Regain Her Love for the Sport
- Anonymous
