I've always prided myself on being able to finish a race. Whether it was a really fast, tactical, or just plain slow. But I've always finished. Last night I was entered in the 1500m. Conditions were terrible. Cold, Rain, wind, and delayed races. Nothing you want in a race. You just couldn't get warm in the warmup. The rain got you cold down to the bone. The gun went off and I went straight to the back (no clue why). 400m in and I feel terrible. 800m in still just hanging on barely. I get to 950m and stopped.
I never stop. I hate the idea of stopping. But I have no clue why I did. I just didn't want it at all. Inside and out, nothing wanted to be on the track. Some people can stop and it doesn't bother them. That it's just another unsuccessful races. That's fine for them but I hate it. I don't know if it was how I was raised or just something I picked up on the way, but it really bothers me. It's not in me to do this. I stayed up half the night tossing and turning analyzing what went wrong and where. And it's stayed on my mind into today. It's like that guilt feeling inside like I've let someone down. And I have....me.
I can say now that I've stopped once, and I hated it. I'd rather jog it in then stop. Why? I have no clue, because finishing whether first or last has never felt as bad as giving up, and that's what I feel I did.
One last race is next Saturday. You better believe I'm getting after it.
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