2020: Soon in the Rearview

It feels odd reflecting on the 2020 year. In its smallest incremental moments, it seemed as though the year would never end. Yet I’m sitting here typing away with 2021 creeping closer by the day. Not only is it odd reflecting on the year in that sense, it’s also odd reflecting on everything I did (and didn’t do) in the last 365(ish) days. For whatever reason, I'm having a harder time reflecting on the things I didn't do, rather than the things I did do. It’s safe to say that this year did not go as planned (for everyone, not just myself). I didn’t run as many miles as I anticipated, didn’t run longer than 50 miles (when I came into the year hyped up to run one, if not more, 100 mile efforts), and didn’t race once (unless you count the 4 laps I ran at Bubba's Backyard Ultra). When I reflect on all these things I didn’t do it’s obvious the one thing they all have in common, running (or the lack thereof).

Running is such a habitual, myopic practice that, oddly enough, we sometimes tend to remember the miles we didn’t run instead of the ones we did run. We don’t remember the gut wrenching performances we had in the spring after we got sidelined with an injury in the summer. We don’t remember the miles we put in for months on end when we’re too busy wallowing in our own self pity that we can’t run (whatever the reason may be). As I reflect on these un-run miles it’s apparent how being a runner is so ingrained in how I view myself as a human being, and I’m sure I’m not alone in that feeling. I’m certain that every runner has once felt this sense of negative self worth after an injury or a poor performance. This entangled connection between my running and my self worth made for some fairly low moments throughout the 2020 year.

Although there were a lot of lows in 2020, there were also a lot of highs. I went on my first ever backpacking and bike packing trips, hiked Mt. Katahdin (a mountain I've dreamed of summiting for quite some time), learned a new role at work caring for patients receiving stem cell transplants, and finished the NH 48 (a long time coming). When I reflect on the highs of this past year, oddly enough, the one thing that is missing from them is running.

I’m sure there are a million lessons to be learned from the Covid 19 pandemic, however, one of the biggest lessons I’m taking away is that we are truly in control of our own happiness. Not only was I forced to take a break from running due to an injury through the late summer and early fall, there also wasn’t much of an incentive to rush back to it due to races being canceled or travel restrictions from the pandemic. This allowed me to take a serious step back from running and enjoy some other forms of movement, something I haven’t done in a really long time. At a time where I felt so unhappy because I couldn’t run, I found happiness in places I would have otherwise never looked, ripping down a Vermont gravel road on my bike or lugging a heavy pack out of Pinkham notch with my girlfriend Kara on our first backpacking trip, wondering what we were getting ourselves in to. I think it’s unlikely I would have had any of these experiences had I not been injured or the pandemic never happened.

In a way I almost feel grateful that I got injured and the racing season was cut short due to Covid. It forced me to disassociate from being a runner for a little bit and doing so made me realize that I’m much more than just that, a runner. It made me realize that my self worth shouldn’t depend on how many miles or how much vert I stacked up for the week. Happiness comes from a place much deeper than that. Happiness is visceral, it’s palpable, something you can feel. I believe one of the best ways to feel this sensation is through new experiences, which I never would have had if this year had gone as originally planned.

I guess the big takeaway here is to be adaptable, try new things, get out there and feel something! Don’t get me wrong, I’m finally getting back to some structured running for the first time in months, and I am pumped up (and hopeful) to race again next year. But if everything goes to shit, just remember, we’ve been here before and we can get through it. Give running (or whatever it may be) a little break and try some new things! Stay adaptable. Stay happy. Stay rad.