2019 was an amazing year for me. After an outstanding end to the 2018 racing season, I rolled right into 2019 with huge goals and so much purpose. I put my heart and soul into that season, giving it everything I had, and I was rewarded with a lot of success. It was the culmination of 6 years of hard work and I was left physically and emotionally exhausted as I crossed the finish line of my final race, the IMT Des Moines Marathon, that October. My plan heading into 2020 was to dial it back for a year, but to still stay active. I wanted to get involved with myTEAM Triumph and do some racing with my daughters. I was going to dial it back, but my intention was to get back after it in 2021 with my first full Ironman triathlon.
Like most people, I did not predict having to navigate a global pandemic in 2020 nor the ways in which that pandemic would change our world and my daily life forever. I learned a long time ago that in stressful situations I always fall back into bad habits and that is exactly what happened for me. I did not cope well with having to work from home and the isolation that came with it. I missed spending time with family and friends. The absolute worst part for me though, was not knowing when, or even if, it would end and things would go back to normal. Training was slowly eliminated from my daily routine until it eventually stopped altogether.
At some point in early 2021 a feeling of desperation came over me. I began to fear the fire in me, the one that was lit back in 2014, was fading away for good. From past experience I knew that signing up for races provided me with the motivation necessary to lace up my running shoes and get out the door. So I put a schedule together and began training. I quickly realized that I wasn't the same Patrick that I was in 2019, when I set all of those personal records. I set my sights too high which ultimately resulted in fleeting motivation and eventual failure.
As the calendar turned to 2022 the only thing that I felt was shame. I have 2 medal racks in my living room that are completely full and a race bib folder on my desk at work that are supposed to remind me of how far I've come. Instead, each and every time that I looked at those I was embarrassed at how far I had fallen and I absolutely hated myself for it. I knew that those feelings were wrong, I knew that I should have felt pride in what I had accomplished, but that just made me feel even worse as I continued to spiral out of control.
At the start of 2022, things were not going so well in life. My wife, Erin, had been facing medical issues for awhile and ended up having surgery at the end of January and the recovery was extremely long and hard for her. In addition to taking care of her, the house, and the kids, and working my full time job, I was also in the midst of basketball season. The stress was wearing on me and I was exhausted all the time. I needed something to get me through, something to focus on, something to make me feel better, I needed to run. As documented in my previous post, on February 7, I started a run streak and have been going ever since.
For several months, the runs were short and extremely slow, but I continued to run every day. Gradually, I started to feel better and having the motivation of keeping the run streak going became my new focus. I did run a couple of 5k races in 2022 and it really felt great to be racing again. As the end of the year approached, the fire in me started to return. During my daily run I often found myself dreaming about racing and remembering what it felt like to cross those finish lines in the past.
As 2023 began, I started pushing myself by increasing my mileage and adding in some swimming, cycling, and strength training. On an extremely cold Sunday morning at the end of January I participated in an indoor triathlon, my first multisport race in over 3 years. After the race, I couldn't stop smiling. It was in that moment that I finally began to forgive myself for everything that had happened during those 3 years. For all of the days that I should have gone on a run or taken a trip to the pool. For all of the days that I ate horribly and let myself go. For all the lost time and lost opportunities to improve and challenge myself.
It has been 2 months since that race, and I am still on the road to complete forgiveness. The weight has started to lift from my shoulders and it has helped greatly with my motivation and determination. I have a lot hopes, plans, and dreams for the year but I am taking it 1 race at a time. Next up on my schedule is the 10K at the Drake Road Races on April 23rd and training has been going very well. With each day that goes by my confidence has been growing as has my trust in myself. I'm not sure what it will take to completely forgive myself, but the path I'm on seems to be the right one.