It finally hit me today while sitting in one of my professor's offices. I started talking about Leadville and the burn from missing the cutoff finally stung... really bad. So bad that some tears actually started to well up in my eyes, my voice cracked, I gasped a bit for air and I tried to talk but nothing. I'm sure my recent bout of nightmares doesn't help. The Emergency Room docs gave me a pretty nasty tranquilizer on Monday Night. For the last two days I was in a medicine induced coma of sorts having nightmares. The same recurring nightmare for two days, and when I woke yesterday I was fired up and ready to run mentally... but not physically.
For the last 3 days I've had the same recurring dream and in that dream I've failed to finish the Vermont 100. Each rendition of the dream has me dropping out of the race at various aid stations I know so well. One edition of the dream even has me not knowing where during the race I dropped at all. Four years, four Vermont 100s; this years was the first one where I chased the clock for 29 hours... and did not receive a buckle. So it was tough waking up from that "coma" yesterday feeling utterly dejecting, feeling like I'd just lost 2-3 years of my life and in those 2-3 years I'd failed to finish Vermont 2-3 times.
I was talking to my professor today about life. How I was 15 minutes late out in Leadville and for the first time in my running career, the time reaper got me. I remember back in 2005, when I ran the Bay State Marathon, Supposedly the easiest Boston Qualifier and I was one of the last out on the course. I remember how awful it felt. I've never forgot that feeling and how I wanted to quit running... running sucked. It hurt, I wasn't cut out for it, I'm not in the kind of shape one needs to be in to run... but I fought back. Just like at Leadville this year... I remember looking back at the others who weren't going to make the cutoff... but we soldiered on. I remember those i passed on the way to Twin Lakes asking, "What time is it." "JUST RUN" and run we did... I fought to the bitter end.. but in the end.. I was 15 minutes late.
So I got stuck thinking today... after this recent bout with Strep throat and uncontrollable hiccups.. I'm a week late in school all ready. For the last 10 years of my life.. I've been 5-15 minutes late for work.. every damn day... for 10 years. When it comes to training for these races... I tend to start really training after it's a tad too late. I'm always about 15 minutes late and I struggle to break out of this awful funk. I'm tired of being the late guy.
I've got my list of struggles and things to triumph over that go far beyond running. Those who have followed this blog since 2008, will remember by time of great sorrow and the time I spent dealing with deep depression. I haven't talked much about it lately so perhaps you think it just "went away." Not so... I still struggle with my demons on a variety of levels. Part of working through my depression is trying to figure out what causes it.. the very things about my life that create the feelings I have. So.. here it is.. 15 minutes late... I have an addiction to the love of others. Because of abandonment issues during my adolescent years, I just expect people to push me away and abandon me... so I attempt to abandon them before they do, seeking out the love and approval of others in the process.
Man I've got some issues... and all I can do is work on them. But I can't help but feel like I'm always 15 minutes late. I'm always tackling things 15 minutes later then I should have. But hey... at least I show up right? If only that worked like it used to... I'm still... 15 minutes late.