I am

I am an ultra-runner.

It sounds like a confession, at a self-help group.  And recently that is how it has made me feel.

I need to stop being apologetic or ‘embarrassed’ to admit it in ‘public’…that’s the general public, not those in the ultra-family.

It’s hard.  It doesn’t always feel normal.  But then who defines what is normal?

Why should it feel this way, or why do I sometimes make myself feel this way about it?

I should feel proud.  In the grand scheme of things, my achievements are minor compared to some of my friends (see James Stewart for starters).  But for a 40-something girl, I’ve run a pretty long way, in a not too bad time, on more than one occasion.  And deep down I am proud.

Yet it still sometimes feels weird. Or like it wasn't really me.

I’m not writing this post to get loads of people praising my achievements; it’s more just an offload of being, of feeling, a little bit beyond ‘normal’.

I’m part of a great Scottish ultra community.  I love being Scottish and I love to run, to be able to run.  It’s a privilege to be able to run across and around our country and see views first hand that many will never see.  To be part of an ever growing group, the heart of which is full of genuinely awesome people who will travel far and wide, to sit up mountains, in laybys, and huddle in tents in all weathers, for a fleeting glimpse of a runner they know, and those they don’t, to ring cow-bells, rattle stones in tin mugs, to “woo-hoo”, wear fancy dress and take pictures, to share in those sweaty, muddy, tear-filled moments of success and despair, with hugs, and words of comfort (or to MTFU).

‘Normality’ for so many is different from that.  It may be about fashion, or kids, or music, movies, books, baking……  I don’t fit into their normality (“What did you do at the weekend?” / “Ran 30 miles around the trails in Glencoe…and wild-camped in the van”).  But then they don’t fit into mine.  Not all the time, anyway.

And I want to be an ultra-runner.  I want to be a better ultra-runner.  So I need to focus and make some changes. 

This doesn’t stop me wanting to be a better wife (there is room for improvement!) or better at my job (where I am good at doubting how and what I can achieve).  These are both vitally important to sustain a happy and fulfilled life.

Maybe I can make a bigger impact with the desire to be a better runner though.

Again, see James Stewart as an example.  With the focus and commitment he has put in, the rewards have come.  Dedication and following a plan.  Making time to deliver on all the components, and (what seems like) doing this without compromise. (Note, I have no expectations of ever being that successful!)

I compromise too often.  And make excuses.

‘One chocolate won’t hurt’, or one slice of pizza.  That’s my blurring into the other view of normality.  Sometimes to avoid standing out.

This year has been a slippery slope.  I missed out on securing a place at what I wanted to be my “A” race.  It was devastating.  It still hurts.  More so because, having pinned my expectations on one goal, I missed out on a chance to enter the WHW again.  This turn of events will mean the cycle continues next year, pinning hopes on one ballot, and sacrificing the opportunity to enter the other.

And it affected my focus.  And discipline.  I let things slide and the focus on maintaining my fitness and weight slipped after the Fling.

I wanted to go to the Alps in good shape, but something ate away (or I ate to many somethings) and actually this became logic for being ‘ok’ not having a race place.  I was/am in no shape to run the CCC this year.

I had a great trip, and saw friends achieve great success.  Next year, and the years ahead, for other races, I want that to be me.  (And for UTMB next year to change the finishers gilet to a nicer design!)

This is going to need me to stop blurring the boundaries too often.  To build my training plan, and to add the discipline and respect back into what I put into my body.  To get back to the strength training, the yoga/pilates, and the cross-training.  To stop being ‘embarrassed’ to say why I don’t want another cocktail, another slice of pizza, or a whole bag of Haribo to myself….

I am an ultra-runner.  And this is what I want to be.