If 2020 has given me anything it's time. Time to think and time to work on projects that kept getting pushed to the wayside (like finally getting around to giving this website a much-needed facelift).
Getting around to the projects has been great, I feel caught up in my life in that regard. The time to think on the other hand has been the problem. It's made me think hard about what's to come and about my current situation in the sport.
What Happens when running ends? What happens when the biggest part of your life isn't there anymore?
It's an exciting and scary time for many across the country, myself included. This year thousands walked across the virtual graduation stage, the threshold between academics and real life. For some, they already have their next steps meticulously planned out. For others, it's a waiting game to see what happens when the real world re-opens.
I've always been in the first category. I'm a planner, I keep calendars and make to-do lists of what I want to accomplish in my days, weeks, months. I try to keep myself ahead of the curve at all times. I don't like to be unprepared and I most definitely do not like the unknown even though I actively try to convince myself that "the unknown is exciting".
When I was a senior in college I felt trapped by the unknown.
I was a graduate student in an accelerated MBA program that I had really only enrolled in because of my scholarship and more importantly to use my remaining track eligibility. In the Fall, I'd stare at my dorm room wall where I'd haphazardly hang my awards and bib numbers feeling lost as I tried to figure out what my life would be that coming Summer. I felt underqualified in comparison to my peers. I felt like while I'd put so much into running the end date was approaching and I questioned the decisions I'd made throughout my collegiate career that put running on the forefront. I found myself applying to every and any job I could find that seemed like a possible fit.
It was only until late that Spring of my Senior year that I realized what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to keep running and I put myself into the position to do so.
On paper, I thought that three years sounded like enough. I would spend three years competing professionally and in the end, I'd hang up my spikes satisfied with my endeavors and enjoy the life of a competitive local hobby jogger. The best part? Those three years included an Olympic year. Competing in the Olympic Trials has always been a well-maintained dream I've kept to myself. In my middle school diary's you'll find the small squiggles dictating my desire to run in the trials. It was perfect.
Now with one year lost and one to go that scenario seems like it was too perfect.
One more year does not feel like the time I need to finish what I've set out to do. And the trials? Well, they're pushed back and I've come to realize my goal should be bigger. Especially since the trials are really just another USA Championships (which I've now competed in twice) with a bit more flair and a lot more importance placed on the meet.
Just like my senior year of college, I was left to grapple with the idea that again I didn't know what was next. I still don't know where track and field as a sport will be. I honestly don't even know when I'll be able to run again for that matter, my fate left to the PRP gods, and whether or not they can effectively work their magic on my hip enough to grant me some jogging by late August.
The panic set in again the same way it did my senior year; with a frenzy of job applications as I felt like the world outside of running was looming it's ugly head at me again telling me I wasn't ready or qualified to join it. 2020 is supposed to be "the great reset" right? I thought that maybe this reset was the universe giving me a sign that it was time to apply to something outside of running and slowly ease my way out of the sport. Maybe my three-year timeline was right all along.
I know I'm not the only one at a crossroads. I know that this year more than any other has spun people's lives around, but I also know that life whether we like it or not has a way of working things out. That frenzy of job applications? This time around it resulted in a new job I was actually excited about; a head cross country coach position at a private school in North West DC. Maybe not too far removed from running, but more responsibility than my previous gig.
I've come to realize that unlike the wave of uncertainty and fear for the future I felt leaving the safety of track in college is not the feeling I have now. No, this feels more like regret. Regret that my 2020 reset may have had me moving on too quickly versus lingering too long in the sport. It dawned on me that a three-year drop-dead date wasn't set in stone as I sat across from my mother-in-law who looked at me with surprise when we discussed the coming year, during which my plan was to move to New York following the conclusion of the season and move on.
"Don't you think Paris would be nice? You'll run through Paris" she said sipping her french press coffee.
So maybe this year is a wash? Maybe this year wasn't meant to be and maybe this is what I needed to happen to be able to come back strong, healthy, and motivated to finish what I've started. At some point, my competitive running career will come to an end, but this time away has made me realize that my timeline is more flexible than I thought.
Paris does sound nice.
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