Hope Springs Eternal

Let me be real for a minute -

Marathon training can be pretty brutal. It's an emotional journey to say the least. Some days I feel amazing, other days I wonder why I decided to do this at all. Lots of things have an impact on my training days - weather, how well I ate the day before, how stressed I am about work (or anything else), my hydration, my attitude before I start my workout, and my emotional state are just a few factors that can influence whether I have a good run or a bad run.

So yeah, lots of things come into play when it comes to running. As I said, training is an emotional journey.

Yesterday I had a bad run. I was supposed to run 20 miles and I only did 11. I let the pain and exhaustion get into my head as I was running and I suddenly felt like I couldn't take going for another 9 miles. I got very emotional once I decided to stop and I started mentally beating myself up for not reaching the goal set out to complete. I spent the rest of the day feeling depressed and frustrated and the whole thing ended up putting me in a bad emotional spiral, where I questioned every decision I have made in the last 2 years. 

It was rough.

But when I woke up today, I felt better. Optimistic, even. After a good night's sleep, I awoke with a clear head, and realized the spiral I was in the day before was totally temporary, and that I allowed my negative lower brain voice to get the best of me. 

And so I decided to do something I don't normally do the day after a long run - I went out for another run. The weather was warm and the sky was clear and I was in the exact right headspace to hit the pavement. I didn't complete the 9 miles I missed the day before (I didn't want to risk hurting myself by going that long of a distance the day after a long run), but I did complete 2 miles and I felt really good about it. Thanks to that quick follow-up run, I was able to end my weekend on a high note.

I have had many training days over the last 9 weeks where I wondered to myself if I made the right decision signing up to run Boston. Do I have what it takes? My God, what if it takes me 8 hours to finish? What if I hurt myself during the race? What if I am too old to be doing a race of this magnitude now? What if I am too overweight to finish this race? What if I am not pushing myself hard enough in my training - or what if I push too hard? What if what if what if...?

Every time I hit the treadmill, the rail trail, or the street for a run, I have to overcome all of those worried doubting thoughts that race through my mind. Most days I am good and I can squash them with optimism and good energy. I also keep reminding myself that I may not be a fast runner and I can't really control that, but I can control how much time, effort, and discipline I put into my training, - so I just focus on that. But every now and then, the negative worries seep in and are hard to shake.

So I will just keep plugging along and do what I can to stay positive and optimistic for the remainder of my training journey. Less than a month remaining until the big day. Eeek!

Today was the first day of spring and as I finished my 2 miler on the rail trail, I spotted some branches with early signs of green sprouting on them:

A little sign from nature that just when you think winter will swallow you whole - spring arrives, ready to flourish and bring life back into the world. I will remember that the next time I find myself in the midst of a bad run. The bad thoughts and negative feelings will pass, they always do, and another good run is waiting for me, just around the corner.

Hope springs eternal. 💜⚘

Two Year Pandemic Anniversary & Feeling Gratitude

As I am writing this, we are approaching the 2-year anniversary of the US COVID-19 shutdown/start of the global pandemic.

Wow, let's just reflect on that for a minute. Two years...damn if that wasn't the longest and fastest 2 years ever - am I right?

Anyway...

I was all prepared to write a little something about "the things COVID took from me" today. But as I opened up this page, I changed my mind. Instead of obsessing on what we lost, on everything bad that happened in the last 2 years, on all of the darkness and struggle, I have decided to focus on what I have gained in all of this mess.

So what did I gain? In a word - perspective.

From the shutdown/lockdown to being temporarily unemployed to being afraid for my health and my life to watching people turn virus prevention (mask mandates and vaccines) into a raging political agenda, I gained a lot perspective on what was important in life. I started taking charge of my physical and mental health in a way I never did before. I began to truly appreciate time spent with loved ones. And I got better at "staying in my own lane" and focusing on what needed to be done for myself and my family, regardless of what others around me were doing. My respect for scientists, doctors, and other clinical professionals who care for the health of others dramatically increased as well - I always looked up to these folks, but the pandemic really shined a spotlight on how amazing and important they are. 

I also decided to stop drinking during the pandemic - and I stopped for good. Before the pandemic I had dabbled in sobriety off and on, taking long breaks without alcohol to test the waters and see what life was like without the blurriness of booze. But inevitably I always ended up back with a bottle of something in my hand, trying to numb myself from the challenges of life. If it weren't for the deep struggles of depression and anxiety that I experienced during the height of the pandemic, I don't know where I would be right now in my relationship with alcohol. Not drinking for the last 21+ months has given me the greatest perspective of all - one full of clarity and awareness. It gave me a second chance to live life the way I was always meant to - feeling everything, good and bad. 💗 And being completely present.

Health anxiety has always been a struggle for me and unfortunately the pandemic made it a great deal worse, but all I can feel today is grateful. Oh don't get me wrong, I spent a long long time feeling bitter over these last 2 years. I also felt resentful and mad, too - especially in 2020. Even last year at this time, as we commemorated the 1 year anniversary of the pandemic, I wasn't feeling quite so grateful. There was a lot to be bitter, resentful, and mad about. But a lot has happened, and one thing I know for certain is that as tough as everything has been for me personally for the last 2 years, I still have love in my heart, and in my life, and that is what got me through - and continues to get me through, each and everyday.

So I could have written a long post about the things COVID took from me, it would be easy to compose something like that. But haven't we had enough negativity? It's time to put some good energy out into the universe. I am ready to let go of my anger and bitterness. I'm not suggesting we simply forget what we've been through, or dismiss the struggles and heartbreak. But it's been a long 2 years, and I am ready for the next chapter.

All I need is a little perspective. And of course:

I'm running The Boston Marathon this year. Yes, for real. And here is my story.

Let's all be honest: it's been a very long 2 years. 

In March 2020, the world shut down due to COVID, and for most people, "normal life" came to a screeching halt.

It was weird. And scary. And super confusing. I don't need to tell you, you were there.

Everyone handled it differently - for me, something inside shifted. Already an anxious person, our "new normal" that began in 2020 had a profound effect on me. I sheltered in place, and really haven't stopped doing so since then. Sure, I get out a little. I go into the office when I need to. I can do what needs to be done and I'd say for the most part, I am functioning okay, but mentally I have not come close to returning to my "old normal". 

Let's put it this way: I can count on one hand how many social engagements I have attended/how many times I have gone out to be with people outside of my household/immediate family in the last year.

Yeah, that's real.

At the end of 2021 I came to the realization that this is not very healthy for me. While it's obviously important to be careful when COVID numbers are high and reduce risk outside of your household, what's going on with me runs a lot deeper than that. My mental health has been greatly impacted by the pandemic. I barely leave my house these days; if I get in my car twice a week, that's a lot. The world has always been a scary place, but the pandemic brought me to a new level of anxiety that is sometimes hard to articulate. What it comes down to is that I feel safer in my home, with my immediate family, than I do anywhere else.

While that's understandable (and believe me when I say my family has been more than understanding), it's not healthy. I need to do better for myself.

As last year came to a close, I made a pact with myself to be healthier in 2022. Not the whole "new year, new me" BS we always see in the media, but a more mindful, honest effort to take care of my physical health, as well as my mental health. And so I sent in a fundraising application to the Dana Farber Cancer Institute with the hopes of getting the opportunity to help them raise money for cancer research, and to support the cause by running the 126th Boston Marathon in April.

Uh, THAT escalated quickly.

Yup, sure did. As you may recall, in July of 2021 I announced to the world that I was retiring from running. But within a couple of months from that sweeping declaration, I was back to running again. Because, as it turns out, running eases my pain. It helps my anxiety. It gives me peace. And it gives me something to strive for.

Running makes me feel alive.

Shortly after submitting my application to Dana Farber for a spot in the marathon in 2022, I had to have a biopsy done for a cyst that was discovered during a routine mammogram. Naturally I was terrified throughout the entire ordeal. I promised myself that if the cyst was benign, and I was offered a spot with the Dana Farber marathon team, I would accept it. And if the cyst was cancerous, I would face it head-on and show no mercy. I was scared, but determined. Either way, I had a plan. 

Shortly after my biopsy I received the thrilling news from my doctor that the cyst in my right breast was benign, and then a week later I received more thrilling news from Dana Farber that I was accepted on their fundraising/marathon team.

Holy crap. I am raising money for cancer research and running the flipping Boston Marathon!? Can I even do this? 

Believe me when I say that I keep asking myself that question, over and over again.

Not long after I was offered the chance to join Dana Farber's marathon team, I saw this quote online:

And I remembered why I originally applied to join the marathon team in the first place: I wanted to care about something again. I wanted to focus on something important that was non-COVID-related. I wanted to push myself a little outside my comfort zone so I could feel alive again. I wanted to be part of something that was bigger than me.

I wanted to take back my mental health by doing good for others, and for me.

Sure, fundraising several thousands of dollars, marathon training, and running the marathon itself are all pretty scary. But you know what's scarier? Facing a cancer diagnosis - people do that every single day. It's also scarier to be so mentally unwell that nothing feels like it matters anymore; being numb and depressed at the same time is downright scary, I know this firsthand. Not having the drive to leave your house is scary. The last 2 years have been scary.

So I said yes to Dana Farber. I said yes to helping fight cancer. And I said yes to taking back my life. 

If you'd like to help support me in this journey, please visit my fundraising page or contact me directly at harrisfp@gmail.com for more info. 

You'll be hearing more from me on all of this soon. 😀Thank you in advance for your support!