Throw in the towel or use it to wipe the sweat off of your face

My roommate produces sports videos and he recently showed me one about a dude who competed at a paddleboard championship in Molokai.

One quote resonated with me.
She always races cause she knows she gonna meet a better version of herself at the end. 
She's racing to meet that person.

While the speaker of the quote wasn't the focus of the documentary (she wasn't even in the film!), the quote stuck with me. Rebecca Rush wasn't talking about running, she's a mountain biker, but her words held true to my understanding of myself as a runner and as a human.

I have spent the last few weeks really focusing on improving my game. I've upped my effort--going from three days of running to six. I'm committed to two or three days of yoga and lifting at the gym. I added speed work that requires me to leave the comforts of my neighborhood for Kezar Stadium. The track--where elite athletes whiz past me in lane 1--and I only hope that what I've YouTubed is enough to get me by for the workout.

Kezar: You literally take my breath away.

I have seen results--I broke my last half marathon PR by twenty seconds, at altitude. My weekly run times are improving and I'm finding myself adjusting my speed work pace because was used to be difficult, is not anymore.

Never did I ever think I'd get sub 8:00 minute miles for a 5k.

And I can't help but think about the amount of effort that I am pouring into training. It is time consuming and I often choose training over other things. It seems that all I can think about or talk about lately is heart rate, repetitions, distances, running shoes, pacing, next events. It has consumed my life--and it's been enjoyable.

Kind of like my last relationship. It was time consuming. I chose it over most things. It was all I could look forward to most days and all my favorite stories started with him. It consumed my life--and it was enjoyable.

That special kind of punch-drunk love smile.

And at the end of it, at the very bitter end of it, I found a better version of myself. It took a few months, and boy am I still working on it, but the me I am today, is a better version of the me I was then. 

Sometimes it feels like relationships are a sprint exercise--we are hurried to move on to the next step. We get into a cycle of repetitions, sometimes forgetting the purpose of what we're doing. We start to go into "robot mode' and just try to get through it.

We really should be treating relationships like marathon training. We need to put time and effort into it everyday. We need to be dedicated and committed to making it work, to reaching our goal of finishing what we started. We have to be okay with the minor setbacks and know that a bad day is just one bad day.  We have to get out of our comfort zone, "head to the track," and put in some solid effort, maybe effort that benefits the other person more than it benefits ourselves. We have to invest ourselves--our whole selves--into making things work. Eventually, what used to be difficult, might  not be so hard the next time. We have to put in the work to meet a better version of ourselves at the end of every day.

If it was easy, it wouldn't be worth it. 

Marathon training is a beast. I've done it enough times to know I'm stupid for trying again. 

But I try again, because I wonder, "will this go around be better?" "Will I leave this round unscathed?" "Will I be better than before?"

And just like marathon training, in relationships, I've done it enough times to know I'm stupid for trying again. I still hope for someone who works hard, someone who knows it's not always supposed to be easy. I still hope for someone who understands that we might not like each other right now, but will love each other tomorrow. I still hope for someone who will run with me to find the better version of each other at the end--and keep running with me, because there truly is no finish line.

I saw a sign that said "falling rocks," so I tried and it doesn't.

This post was supposed to be about this killer track workout I did...the one where I ran 16 400m repeats at alternating 7:00/7:20 paces and how badass I felt.

Instead this is a post about how I took a killer fall on one of the most familiar trails I run.

I didn't even want to run. Wednesday training days have been time consuming--I run 3-5 miles, go to a weight lifting class and then a 75 minute yoga class. I get very hungry.

I had considered moving my run to Friday, which would mean I would have no "complete rest" day, which I 100% believe in and live for. Then I told myself, "no, no, don't get in the habit of moving workouts around now. You have no excuse NOT to run."

Well. Look at what happens when you try to be dedicated to the training plan.

I must have tripped on the rutted out trails. I've noticed for a few weeks that the trails have been rockier than normal, likely a result of the crazy Presidio winds and high tourist traffic.

I sat there for a minute (after pausing my watch, naturally) to get my bearings back. Yep, that was a hole in my Nikes tights. Yep, that was a rock sticking out of my knee (and yep, I pulled it out, forgetting EVERYTHING I've learned about first aid). Yeah, I had little skin on my palm. Nope, nothing felt broken.

A guy in a really nice car stopped on the side of the road and asked if I was okay. "I saw you bang your head," he said. I didn't know I had hit my head so I kinda stared at him in response. "Are you okay?" he asked again. I said "yeah I think so, but can you drive me about a quarter mile home?"

As I shut the door to his car, I thought to myself "oh, you definitely hit your head. You are in a car with a stranger." And then I rationalized it, "it's okay. He offered help. He's not a predator. This is a lot like a Lyft ride. I hope this isn't how it ends."

I got into my apartment and jumped in the bath to try to rinse of blood and grit. The gash on my knee looked particularly deep so I called Kaiser and within a few minutes had an appointment with the urgent care doctor in South SF.

Sure, I could drive myself. What's that they say about concussions?

Man, did it hurt to have this doctor digging away at the grit and grime with his little scissors and tweezers. I absolutely shed the involuntary "oh my god why does this hurt so much" tears when the nurse scrubbed at me with a sponge. "It's not coming out!" she whined as the doctor wiped the tears from my face with gauze pads.

The doctor decided that stitches weren't necessary and would ruin my chance to get back to running quickly. He prescribed two solid days off and "take next week easy."

I guess I should be grateful that nothing is broken. Everything is bruised and it's only the first day. It is very difficult to do much with a gaping wound on your dominant hand. And the nurse has left hair all over the apartment, which makes it hard to keep the wounds clean.

but damn my legs are skinny

Way too much excitement for a Wednesday afternoon when I didn't even feel like running anyway.