A Burnout Runner

Shuffling along at a pace I couldn’t have guessed if I tried, the wind whipped through my hair as I jammed to the sound of Bruno Mars. For this run, I only had one goal—to end it, being happy that I had gone in the first place.

There are plenty of motivational Pinterest quotes and Facebook posts that say things like:

“The only runs you regret are the ones you didn’t do.”

But that hadn’t been true for me for longer than I cared to admit. 

I regretted the runs I ran too fast and even more so the ones I ran too slow. 

I regretted the runs that felt too hot or cold, the runs when I felt tired and when I didn’t get to talk to my friends. I started to feel as if I regretted them all.

With my first marathon as a goal later this year, I pour myself into intense training. And it’s not just the training. Along with this are the scheduling, the dieting, the actual races and the sacrifices that we, our families and friends and sometimes, even our work, must make to stay in top racing form (or just be able to do the sport).

I experienced emotions that I never felt before: 

🔥lack of interest in the sport, the sport that I loved so much; 

🔥diminishing returns from training; 

🔥difficulty in training as hard as I did only a few weeks back; 

🔥irritability and a general feeling of guilt for not training at top level; 

🔥and sometimes, intermittent illness either manifests as a bum stomach, slight fever or mild headaches.

Struggling with burnout in the aftermath of my training for a marathon, I wondered whether I would ever want to run again. As someone who has spent five years letting running define my existence, I couldn’t believe how much bitterness I felt. Combine that with the guilt I carried for not being grateful that I could run after months of injury, knowing how many people would kill to be able to get back on the roads, and the results were ugly.

Regardless of how selfish I felt, I knew I had to find the fun in running again or leave the sport behind. Life is too short to run (or do anything else) if you hate it.

So, maybe I’ll let running go. I tried to remember all the things running has taught me and why I loved it so much in the first place. Perhaps most importantly, I asked myself: “If I knew I would never PR again or run a marathon, would I still run?”

It took me a while to answer that question, but eventually, I found myself looking forward to lacing up my shoes. I got the itch to sign up for a marathon and start training again, although this time with much less self-imposed pressure. Of course, I would still run.

Over the years, I have run for emotional salvation, to achieve personal bests, as an excuse to travel and make friends, and even as a justification for that extra glass of wine. But now? I’m just going to run for me and for fun. I realized it was misguided to think my relationship with the sport would stay the same even as the rest of my life shifted. Like the supportive family member it is, running welcomed me back with open arms.

The prodigal runner has returned!