The Weightness of Expectation
I feel good. I rested. I feel ready.
That is terrifying. Because I have no excuse not to perform.
I lie in bed awake the night before a workout. The night before many workouts. Not all, but some.
I’ve been doing the little things. I’ve taken my easy days easy. I’ve eaten the pasta. I’ve foam rolled. My body feels ready. My legs relaxed. I am good to go.
I lie awake in a state of privilege. My legs strong and relaxed. My mind fresh and focused. I have no excuses. No reason not to perform tomorrow. Yet, my anxiety is heightened.
There is no reason I cannot do the intervals tomorrow. I am not an underdog to the paces. There is no rain or inclement weather. I am set up to succeed. The pressure I am feeling, to hit everything perfectly, is oddly parallel to how I feel in regard to my well being in society right now.
I am well off, financially stable and have a good job and friends. Yet, there is something unsettling about our country right now that has created this underlying level of dread. Of doubt and uncertainty. Ever since I lost my job temporarily last March, I have lived in fear that all my stability, all my strength can be taken away.
My foundation was shook, and that feeling persists even if I don’t experience it directly anymore.
Winter is a tough time for me. Workouts are harder in the snow and cold. Runs feel and are slower. Each morning I feel as though I’m layering for battle. However, the climate is also an excuse. It’s a reason to give myself more grace. It puts an asterisk on each run, each workout. Though I do not think about titling my runs nor do I humble brag post on Strava, in my brain I justify a poor performance with “well, my legs are tired” or “it was really cold” or “I didn’t get a chance to rest yesterday” etc etc etc…
These things are valid and suck, but they also give me some peace of mind when I still suffer from the lingering voice telling me I am not good enough.
Owning my shit. Owning my effort. Owning the runner I am today, in these conditions, right now.
That’s fucking hard. I hate excuses. I hate feeling justified for underperforming.
Ideally, I would like my workouts to line up exactly to get the race or result I want. That would be very nice and cookie cutter, but the world doesn’t work that way. Some days I outperform what my fitness is or what the weather dictates I should do.
Those situations are addicting and satisfying in the moment. But I do not want to be that kind of athlete all the time. I want to put in consistent quality work and have the results show it.
I don’t want to be one of those people who don’t train and randomly win a race.
I don’t want to be the runner who doesn’t sleep or eat well and still performs.
I don’t want the runner who has excuses. The races and times where they say “well it was cold and rainy so she might have run better if…”
Sandbagging is another way I put myself down and not believe I have the ability to do something. That way if I don’t hit it, I’m not surprised or as upset. If I do hit it, I’m actually surprised and more pleased with that performance.
Though fine in the moment and sometimes a confidence boost, I don’t want that to be normal. I don’t want a reason I didn’t run to my potential. I don’t want sandbagging to be who I am.
I just want to show up, do the work and let the times be what they are.
Feeling good and ready is pressure. But to be honest, I’d rather give myself every chance to hit the times or run fast, than give myself an out to run slow.
That my friends is giving up, and I will not do that.
