Self-care is about listening to your body: How I got my personal record in a race that I quit.

This month Nephesh is focusing on extreme self-care because we believe that self-care is crucial to caring for others.  When we are nourishing our bodies and souls, we are better able to love others.  I’m continually trying to practice this in my own life.  Last Saturday I took a formerly very uncharacteristic approach to nourish myself — I quit a race.  And, I must say that it was a victory.  I have not regretted it one bit and surprisingly, my pride is still just fine.  Here’s how it all went down…

Last spring, Jeff (my now husband) and I decided to train for a half marathon.  In hindsight, I have no idea why I agreed to this.  I was starting a business, moving into a new home, and planning a wedding — all of which are quite time consuming.  I certainly didn’t need to add training for a half marathon on top of it.   It was a lofty goal, to say the least.  However, I am a runner and historically Jeff has not identified as a runner.  I was eager to experience this with him and the competitor in me didn’t want to sit on the sideline as he ran it.  Plus, he would need my help; after all, I have several half marathons and two full marathons under my belt.

As we trained for this race, I generally ran faster than Jeff (and he would agree with that).  Sometimes we trained together, sometimes we trained separately.  We didn’t hit the mileage that we would have like to during our training, but we are both active people and felt confident that we would still be able to run the race, even if it meant at a slower pace.

The night before the race I had some digestive problems and doubted whether I could run the race.  I decided to sleep on it and see how I felt in the morning.  I woke up with a very swollen belly and a lot of discomfort.  I didn’t want to run the race, but I really didn’t want to sit it out.  Everything in my body was telling me not to run, but my mind was telling me that I would be a wimp if I didn’t.  As the starting time neared, my symptoms did not improve.  But, I decided to give it a try anyways.

At mile 1 (of 13.1), I felt pretty terrible.  I had piercing pain along my side and lower belly.  Yet, I decided to continue, thinking it might get better.  At mile 2, it was even worse.  I could barely keep my running form.  I wanted to curl up in a ball on the side of the dirt trail.  Jeff was running strong and I didn’t want to hold him back, so I told him I was probably going to walk or drop out of the race.  We both hated it, but we decided it was the best thing to do.  At mile 2.5, I did something I’ve never done — I quit the race.  I stopped running, watched Jeff run ahead, and then I turned around and walked back to the start.  And, it was a personal victory, a personal record for me.

You might wonder why quitting a race is a personal victory.  I would have wondered the same thing a couple of years ago.  Quitting was a victory for me because I was listening to my body — something I didn’t used to do.  Even one year ago, I probably would have kept running the race only to further suffer.  I would have thought — How weak!  You should push through it.  You trained for this.  Don’t let that person beat you.

On Saturday, I chose not to suffer.  I chose to give my body what it needed.  I chose to quiet the former soccer player and competitive runner in me and to tune in to what I really needed in that moment.  I decided to turn around, walk back to the start, enjoy the fall colors along the C & O Canal in southern Maryland, and allow the aches and pains to gradually subside.  And, it was glorious.  I felt no remorse.  No guilt.  Just victory.  Certainly not the response I would have had historically.

I’m not suggesting that running is terrible or that you should never push yourself.  I am not claiming that I will never run a race again.  I am, however, encouraging you to listen to your body.  To practice turning off the competitor in you and to be gentle with yourself.  I am suggesting that you practice extreme self-care.

I can guarantee that Jeff and my friends would have not enjoyed being around me very much on Saturday if I had decided to suffer through the race.  So, in a strange way, quitting the race was one of the best ways I could love them.