If you've "retired" from running, know that the enjoyment and purpose of running that you've felt before is out there waiting for you as you evolve and embrace the next chapter.
I have retired from running exactly three times. Each “retirement” was preceded by some event or occurrence that made me question why I was a runner and how I would possibly move forward successfully in my chosen sport.
The first retirement was in 1993, after the passing of my grandmother, who arguably was my biggest fan, in both running and non-running pursuits. I recall vividly heading out the door from her apartment, a couple days after she passed, with the intent of running 10-miles. I made it 10 feet, used a few four letter expletives, and sheepishly walked back inside. That retirement lasted seven days.
The second retirement took eight months to work through. In 2006, I suffered a double stress fracture in my hip and back, as well as a broken sesamoid bone that required surgery (find your anatomy books to locate it!). I mentally found it daunting to come back from both the broken bones and the discovery that I was osteopenic (a precursor to osteoporosis). The day after I was cleared, I ran. So much for THAT retirement.
The final retirement occurred in 2010, after a failed marathon attempt in Vermont. I’d trained for several months and was physically prepared for a very fast race. Unfortunately, my mental prep didn’t mirror my physical prep. I checked out at the three mile point, somehow jogged along until about 18 miles, then hopped on the broom bus for the ride back to the finish line. I’d unretired before I got off the plane home.
Struggles, both mentally and physically, are part and parcel to being an athlete. Whether you call yourself a jogger, a runner, or a seasoned racer, or your pursuits are in some other sport, we all hit those periods where we question why we do what we do.
The three events I mention were all brought on by one huge event (death, medical diagnosis, failure) and my seemingly mental roadblock, “How am I gonna overcome this?” But sometimes, those feelings of wanting to give up develop over a period of time – measured in weeks or months or in rare cases, years.
Reinventing yourself
After my 2010 retirement (and sharing the plane ride with Mike, my traveling companion for the race who, oddly enough, also did not finish), I’d decided that it was time to change my approach completely. I reinvented myself as a runner. Wait, you can do that? Aren’t runners… runners?
Baseball players who are no longer able to field their position in the Majors often find a few extra productive years by playing a different role on a team or on the Junior circuit as a designated hitter. The key is their willingness to admit they are in need of evolving!
While runners aren’t running for a $1 million salary, we do run for ourselves and our own personal goals. My Vermont Marathon failure showed me that I was no longer a marathoner. So it appeared it was time to retire or change the goals.
The key to evolving is the willingness to embrace change. It might be more time in the weight room, or cross training, or rediscovering the trails, or even listening to your training partners for once and trying that team relay thing. Evolving is as unique as your shoe selection, turnover rate and personal goals.
As a 54 year old, well into my 40th year of running, I have accepted that I cannot do what I did when I was 24 or 34 or even 44. But then again, my 24 or 34 or 44 year old selves would have no shot at doing what my 54 year old self is currently doing, so NAH!
Whether your demise stems from a single event or has developed over a period of time, know that the enjoyment and purpose of running that you’ve felt before is out there waiting for you to “evolve” and embrace the next chapter, even if it’s on a bike or in the pool or in the gym.
I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails!
Former standout Lock Haven University runner Andy Shearer is a member of the Middletown Athletic Club, the Greater Philadelphia Track Club and USA Track and Field.