Running Against the Wind

Yesterday I ran a 10k in Gering, NE. I drove down alone, and met a new friend who lives in another town. We don't know each other very well, but we both enjoy running, so that is usually enough. We talked before and after the race. During the race she was busy getting 1st place out of all the women, averaging a 7:30 minute mile pace. I know...speedy. I was...further behind trotting along at my 9:40 mile pace and feeling every single step of it. Seriously, it was as fast as I could go, and I had a side ache, and breathing was tough, and my left hip/knee were a little ouchy.

Last year, I ran the very same 10k, with this bunch.

A year ago at the same race.

We drove together, and ran. Then we went to Target and ate steak nachos. It was our only race as a group. I had such a great day with these women. I had trained and ran my first and second half marathons a month or so before this day. A year ago, I led the pack, with my friend Kelly right behind me.  Last year I got second place in my age group, and it was pretty awesome. I was a runner, comfortable in this group, and the accomplishments I was making in my distance and speed.

A lot has changed since last year.  

I have written very openly about my depression last winter. I have mentioned my struggle with church attendance, panic attacks, and recovery. I am better now, so it is hard to remember how terrible I felt, but it was bad. I stayed in bed most days. I wanted to die and not wake up. I felt horrible guilt about my inadequacies as a mother and a friend.

Needless to say, my running waned. A few months after this race, I separated myself from the running group, as it was called. I left the facebook group, and I no longer participated in the group runs. I had some social friction, as happens with people, but I was not resilient in my recovery and I opted to exit rather than work through the tensions. I found the very small amount of energy and motivation I had in life needed to be used on things like, interacting with my children, folding laundry, taking those walks my counselor told me to take, and trying to get better and running 10 miles on Saturday was no longer realistic. It took a lot of time and energy to get better.

First I had to find out what got me in the depressive state in the first place. There were a few factors: genetics, SAD (seasonal affective disorder, and did you know Nebraska has long cold winters? well, it does), unrealistic expectations from myself and others, self-defeating behaviors, boundary issues, and guilt- massive amounts of guilt. One aspect of guilt I needed to work through was wanting to work, and having small children at home. I had thought that good moms stay home with their kids. Turns out, that takes a lot of effort to work through all that. I had medication, counseling, I read a lot, and I had to do many self-healing things and take time to invest in my creative side. It took about 6 months to feel back to someone who resembled myself, and even longer to feel strong enough to implement healthy boundaries. (The ability to speak my opinion, and say no. Some people know how to do this, other people need to read books and such. I am of the latter group of people).

So, I worked for the newspaper writing articles and taking pictures as well as working on the legals section. I worked for the after school program tutoring middle school students. I went back to yoga, and joined cross-fit. I went to a writer's retreat and a writer's conference. I am totally a writer. That is where I feel most at home. When I am running with writers, it is even better. I can also write with runners and it is pretty great, too. I did an improv theater. I ran an Ultra Ragnar where I ran further than I ever thought I could. I interviewed for a high school teaching job that I didn't get. I interviewed for a CASA Executive position that I didn't get. I interviewed for a middle school teaching job that I got and now I am teaching with a group of students I love in a school that is a great fit, and I have on site-child care. I just finished the first weekend of a play that I have been rehearsing for, for months. I have met AMAZING people in my community. I love the county 4-H educator, the publisher at the newspaper (although he is moving), so many teachers in both Sidney and Potter, amazing fitness friends with my race and cross-fit, at least a hundred new writers, and theater buddies who are just as silly as I am. I also had to navigate my relationships within my religious community, and that has been the most lingering and difficult aspect of my recovery. I am still figuring it out. It isn't simple.

Back to my race and what I learned: 

While I was running on mile 4 of my 6 mile run on Saturday, I was running up a big hill into the wind. My side hurt, and my knees were tired, and I could feel the late night from the night before and the Cinnamon Toast Crunch not giving me the energy I required, I had the thought "I wish the wind would change directions and blow me up the hill instead of against me." I even asked the race volunteer biker in the orange vest  at the base of the hill if he could change the direction of the wind. He was no help. And then the thought occurred to me, "Running against wind makes you stronger." Then I had a bunch of thoughts that all came at once, how thoughts sometimes do. 

I thought about my depression and how I kept wishing it would just be easier. I remember thinking the phrase "why does this have to be so hard?" I pictured the depression like the wind with big black water-color brushstrokes, and I just had to lay down for a while to keep it from blowing me backwards. I saw myself laying on the paved trail with the wind and snow blowing all around me and I was laying under my pink minky blanket with a pillow, wishing for the wind to stop. I didn't go to church. I didn't respond to texts or emails. I isolated myself from any amount of hurt or stress. I remember at the time, while I was laying, wondering if I would ever get better. Ian assured me I would. The first step was to stand in the wind.

Standing in the wind of depression was when I went to counseling and the doctor and got help. Ian had to help me. He made my appointments, and I think he even drove me there. I can't remember, but I know he helped me. I was unable to do it myself. He made me food, and took care of the children almost in their entirety. I was barely able to stay alive, and make it from one day to the next.

Then, I was strong enough to walk in the wind. My counselor gave me the task of walking 15 minutes every day. It was windy, and cold, and I kind of hated it, but I always felt better once I was done. She told me to stand tall and take deep breaths. While I was running my 10k, I remembered that and I stood a little taller and practiced my yoga deep breathing. My counselor told me to write, or draw, or sing, and so I would do that a little bit every day even though I didn't want to. The wind was still blowing, but I was moving forward. A friend from church asked me to sing with her. We sang once a week. I wasn't moving fast, but I was moving. I found myself surrounded by people who supported me, and they weren't the ones I thought they would be. I reconnected with family that lived far away. I made an effort to engage with friends from college. I wrote more. I wrote about my depression, which was both hard and freeing.  I responded very well to the medication and the counseling.

After a few weeks of walking in the wind,  I started to run into the wind. I came to terms with what and who I wanted in my life and put the pieces back together. Here I was running the same race a year later, and my life was very different. There wasn't a group of women physically there to cheer me on, but I felt surrounded in my mind and heart with people who were cheering for me. I thought on that day with fond memories instead of loss. I remembered how everyone else kept their running clothes on and I had a change of clothes, complete with cute hat, and one of my friend said,"Evelyn looks like Paris." I did. It was a funny thing to say, and a great day. One of the girls ran her first 5k since having a baby, and she ran in with all of us the last 50 meters or so, with a huge smile on her face. Then we all got American flags at the end. It was full of happiness and friendship.

Here I was at the same race I won a medal in once. A year later, none of those women in the photo joined me, but it was OK. The people who are meant to be in my life are still there, and the ones who aren't have found other friendships. Life isn't a competition and we are all doing our best. I had a new running friend who is excited about having someone to run with even though I can't really run "with" her during the race, I can watch her from behind and cheer on her speedy ways. Saturday, I was there running on my own. 

Isn't that a miraculous thing I can say? I was running on my own. After laying in the wind, standing with the help of my husband, walking slowly, now I can run all on my own---against the wind. The day was beautiful. The golden grass was blowing in the wind, and the bluffs were gorgeous against the blue sky. I thought about my amazing job, my wonderful family, the opening night of my first play, the classes I am taking for graduate school, and the people who know and love me.

And I ran uphill into that cold Nebraska wind, my fingers feeling the chill as it blew against me, I said, "Thank you wind, thank you for making me stronger." It was hard to get here, but it is better than last year. I am stronger. I am more than a runner. I am a teacher. I am an actress. I am a writer. I am better, stronger, and more. And it is all because of that damn wind.

Scottsbluff monument, the race was along the foothills.

Works Cited

Petty, Tom. "Running Against the Wind" 

Hornbarger, Evelyn. My freaking awesome brain. Memories. 2015