Tonight, with the advice and help of my coach, I decided not to run the Surf City Half Marathon this weekend. Could I run the 13.1 miles? Yes. Could I finish in two hours or less? Probably.
Will this help propel my training and boost my confidence?
Moreover, I could re-aggravate the leg injuries that ART therapy has helped me restore. There's just not enough upside here, as Mel Kiper Jr. likes to say when evaluating NFL Draft prospects. The funny thing is, I've known all along this is the right decision. I signed up for Surf City without a clear head, still emotionally swelling from Ironman Arizona. I had no business making such lofty plans mere days after such a big race. I know that now.
It could be worse though. My buddy John, who has been pasting me in trail runs the past few Wednesday, felt a twinge in his leg this past week while I was in London. He instantly knew it was serious. IT band tightness. John, too, is a scratch for this Sunday's Race.
Not such a Super Sunday after all.
I've had the great fortune of participating in multiple races, injury free. This was to be John's first half marathon. A big milestone in his life. He worked very, very hard to get to this moment. Perhaps too hard. But this is just a heartbreaking turn of bad luck for him. He told me that at first he almost wanted to cry he was so frustrated, the moment he knew his race was over before it started.
I'm sure we can all relate at some point.
For me, I'm reminded how blessed we are to arrive at the starting line ready to race. Physically and mentally. It's a gift in itself to feel healthy, alive and proud just moments before the starting gun pops.
Keep that in mind the next time you toe the line. We are very, very lucky when our plans align with reality.
138 days and counting.