Numb. Numb and crushed. With a dash of accepted complacency.
A mere twenty miles around the lake on the trail was the seemingly pointless goal of the day. But fifteen in, I suddenly found myself at a crossroads:
My legs didn’t hurt.
My body wasn’t tired.
My mental game was strong.
There was nothing wrong.
I just didn’t want to run.
Not only did I not want to run, I didn’t want to run ever again. And if I was honest with myself, the lack of feeling was one I’d become all too familiar with.
I stood still–dead in my tracks–dropped my pack to the ground, fell down into the dirt, buried my face in my hands and sobbed uncontrollably.
…. Ashley… Again? Seriously. What’s your problem? Pick your sorry self up off the ground….
I wiped my drenched eyes with the back of my sleeve, and looked up into the giant blue sky. Waiting, searching, thinking, wondering.. and for what, I guess I didn’t know….I guess I’ll never know.
… God…Where’d my spark go?.. Why’d you take it away? I’m so freakin’ lost.
I dropped my head back down and let more tears stream down my face. I rubbed my cheek against my shoulder– clearing the temporary blindness– then stared blankly at my scuffed up shoes: worn, tired, and frayed from years of never ending abuse. I thought about all of the billion times I’ve triumphed over adversity. I waited for inspiration.
I wanted nothing more in that moment than to have some massive realization, like maybe God Himself would part the clouds and say, “Hey you, girl with a wild heart, not tossed by the wind, here today and gone tomorrow….guess what? I get you. I know why you’re so messed up in life. Here’s the solution…. Now go my child, and continue on your epic trail run.”
What have I done with my life? How did this day go from running a quick twenty to sitting in the dirt like a mad woman? I didn’t know, nor did I care.
So I just sat there and picked at a few blades of grass. No absolution. And perhaps even more disquieting, no resolution. I just sat…. for a long long time. I gazed back up into the clouds, shed a few more tears for the loss of my spark, then I picked myself up off the ground.
Strength is what you find when you can’t find it.
I tossed the pack over my shoulder, took a deep breath, and said Just Go.
So I went.
I put one dead foot in front of the other for the next five miles. Every step was pointless, numbing, and without purpose, yet I found a strange thankfulness in it.
Nothing was accomplished that day. Absolutely nothing but twenty miles.
I’m okay with that.
So, this is an old post I had written, capturing a feeling I’ve dealt with on and off for the greater part of the year… Ever just felt like NOT running any more? How did you overcome it? For me, I just had to keep putting one foot in front of the other until my passion came back. Share with me! Leave your thoughts and comments below:).