In A Funk

This is how I feel today. Funky, but not in a cool way. I am as gray as the sky is outside my window. I am not sure why. I really cannot explain the whole melancholy thing. I am finally over bronchitis, which laid me out for 10 days. I have not taken that much time off exercise since bedrest with pregnancy. It was ugly around here through Christmas and New Years. But even running the track workout this morning, something was amiss.

Perhaps it was the weight I carried on my chest, running behind our friend, Mike, who lost his mom to cancer on Tuesday morning. It was hard to breathe, replaying the conversation in my mind about how he took with him her chemo hat to hold on to the smell of her. He spoke of how he gave her his Ironman Germany Medal at the viewing yesterday. It is never easy to watch a grown man cry, or to know what to say to comfort him. We all just stood there, paralyzed by his words, not having many of our own to return to him. We were helpless. What can one really say? It was completely depressing to think of that ache in his heart, mostly because I am able to relate. I can remember the emptiness when my own dad died. Even 9 years ago, those feeling are raw. To think of those dark days, and to know a friend is enduring that now, is surreal.

Whatever the cause of my mope, my legs felt like concrete blocks today when we ran 2 by 12 minutes @ tempo pace, though mine did not accurately reflect it. I shouldn't say, I really have no idea on the pace, since we didn't follow mile markers today. We simply ran on time, and somehow the air would just not flow into the lungs. My legs lumbered along and my mind was screaming at me to stop and just give it all up. Chasing Mike and Traecy down the center of campus toward the fountain, I really wanted to quit and walk back to the car. Something in me just wouldn't do it, though. I couldn't stop. I had to keep running, though I was hating it. I tried to find a song to sing in my head, but nothing would stick.

Then there was the thought of the marathon, and yet another marathon. LA is a sure thing, March 4th, but there is this nagging marathon that does not want to be ignored, in just 10 days. I am not signed up for Carlsbad, but I have an entry, should I want it. All reason in me tells me to walk away. The voices of reason in my head tell me not to even consider running it, but this funk, this emptiness, this little shadow that is following me, tells me to stir the pot and go for it. This little lonely ache in my heart that is looking for validation is just hanging around and sometimes a race is just what I need to supress that hollow feeling. A reasonable athlete would ignore the funk and pass up the entry to follow her schedule for the race on calendar. March 4th is really only weeks away.

I guess I am not reasonable, because I really want to run Carlsbad. I think I will just have to say, "What the funk".