Lakeland 100 – Did Not Succeed

Health warning: Contains details of the inner workings of my head that some younger viewers may find disturbing.

On Friday at 6pm I started the Lakeland 100. I was feeling really fit and strong on the back of some good results and great training. I was full of optimism and positivity, and hoping to go well under 30 hours, if not sub-28 hours.

90 minutes later my race was over, stopped by an extremely sore Achilles tendon. Lakeland 8.5 complete.

I failed.

First of all, I’d just like to say that I’m not looking for expressions of sympathy, or “Rich, it was the right thing to do, you’re not a failure, you’ve had a great season so far” etc etc.

I know that logically the above statements are true, but how I feel is totally different.

The fact is that I did fail. I do feel like a failure and a dark cloud is hanging over my head. I feel failure badly.

I’m disappointed that my good results, my fitness, my strength in the hills, all came to nothing. It feels like an opportunity wasted.

But the failure is far more. I worry that others will be doubting me, thinking I’m weak, may even be secretly having a wry smile. That my family, friends, peers will value me less. That I will appear less capable, less worthy.

Paralysis by analysis, it’s said!

Why do I worry so much what others think of me? Self-esteem? Lack of self-value? Seeking praise? Seeking acceptance? Possibly. Probably. Definitely.

I know that logically none of the above are true, but that’s how I feel. I don’t really understand why. My intelligent, professional mind doesn’t understand why, but it’s how I am.

Of course I did the right thing. My Achilles is still sore. You may run off a sore muscle but not a bad Achilles. I would have only made it significantly worse.

Of course I’m not a failure. I’m sat here looking at all my medals hanging on the corners of pictures of my loving family. I am very fortunate, and I have succeeded in nearly everything I’ve ever done.

Of course I’ve had a great year running. The Spine. The MdS. Hardmoors 110. The Lakes 10 Peaks. All really long, tough, epic events. All races I’m extremely proud to have run in and finished.

Perhaps I’m just a little boy, just looking for acceptance, for praise, looking for his place in the world.

Others will be saying, and quite rightly, that I’ve done a huge amount this year, probably too much, and that I need to rest. Jenny tells me this, others hint at it, and I know it’s true.

So why have I pushed it so much this year? Firstly, with being off work for a while, I’ve had more time. More importantly though it’s about pushing the envelope. How far can I go? How long? How often? Again, this is not only for myself but seeking a pat on the back.

I also have to admit that there’s a little ‘How much can I do before I really break myself?’ Jenny laughingly (I think) says I’m a self-harmer. If I’m honest, perhaps there’s something in that as far as running goes.

I’ve just been having an email conversation with a friend:

Friend: I think you did the right thing, really! You have to listen to your body and have the guts to say enough is enough when you know you are going to do some damage, so I still say well done to you! You will come back stronger!!

Rich: I know it was the right thing to do unless I wanted to really destroy my running for months………but I'm still majorly pee'd off! Don't deal with not succeeding very well!

Friend: I think that's what makes you stronger, though! You definitely did the right thing!!

So perhaps what I see (and think others see) as a weakness may actually be a strength.

So there it is. A DNF and nothing is ever simple with me. My body will mend (I hope) and my mind will play its little games. And I’ll be happily running somewhere near you soon!

So when do the entries for next years Lakeland 100 open?