So you don’t believe in yourself.
You’ve lost the faith. You don’t know if you can. You don’t know if you’re capable. You don’t know if you want to. And once you actually said it out loud, it made you really sad all of a sudden.
Another race landed in the same old bin of DNS for 2017. And the pressure of training was gone. Pressure of anything was gone. The pressure you put into your well being was gone. Suddenly you feel so unfit like never before. You feel like you’ve lost it all. Endurance. Fitness level. And worse of all: the willpower to do everything you used to do with passion.
You don’t want to wake up early. You don’t want to go to gym. You don’t want to do speed work. You don’t want to do any work. All you knew was running. All you loved was running. Now almost week passed without it, and you don’t miss it that much.
It used to be part of you. Something that defined you. Something that was your biggest passion. Something that was you in your purest form.
And your inner self is standing here looking around and observes it. Quietly. You don’t know what to do. Feels useless. Feels empty. Like someone stole something from you. But no one did, it was you. And you feel like crying. Like if that ever helped…
People don’t want to talk about injuries. They don’t want to know you are weak. Actually you don’t want them know that either. Small steps suddenly feel like big goals. And you feel so tired. And so weak. So fragile. Like your fractured bone.
All you do is doubt. Confidence left you together with endurance and it all feels like long uphill. And as you grit your teeth, you realise there is only one way:
Whatever it takes.
Time to climb that goddamn hill.
Over and over again.