Beating Depression - One Experience at a Time: Racing in the snow

When reflecting on how to report on my first race of 2013… the year I will become an Ironman, and the year I will overcome years of mental weakness, I’ve tried to think of how I could equate the experience to real life. And I think I've got it!

My first race of the year was very cold, sunny, and snowy. Having never used snowshoes, and not owning a pair myself, Kermit decided we would race the Park City Snowshoe Stomp in sneakers. Piece of cake, I figured. On my birthday, I ran 9.62 miles! I remember this time last year when I could barely make it two miles around an indoor track. And Kermit hadn’t done jack in about a month, so I knew I could leave him in my snowy dust. Ah, when will I ever learn?

Not ever having been a beach bunny, I didn’t know what it was like to run in the sand, nor did I know the difficulty of that equaled running in the snow. I took off at a pretty normal 9 min pace, passing a few of those silly people in their snow shoes. I even got a tiny bit ahead of Kermit. But after the first mile, my legs and ankles were so tired, I didn’t know how much further I could actually run. Kermit was so far ahead, I could only see him off in the distance before he headed around the next curve. This was hard! My feet couldn’t find the solid, hard pavement they were used to, so they kept slipping and sliding from under me. It took twice the effort to keep my balance, and twice the effort to run. So much for keeping a positive attitude during a race, I thought to myself. This sucks. I kept trying to combat those negative thoughts with, but think of the amazing workout you are getting by doing this!

By the time I’d finished, I was so discouraged that it was difficult to keep the negative thoughts at bay. When Kermit asked, wasn’t that fun? I sadly shook my head no. More than anything, I felt like I’d failed myself and my goal to keep a positive attitude during a race. I had depended on my mental success in Palm Springs, and my increasing mileage, to be a shoe-in for the snowshoe race. Despite the fact I came in 1^st place in my division – I was the only one in my division – I was disappointed in myself.

This past week, I’ve had a few lessons on co-dependency. From everything I’ve read about this term, it is always a bad word with negative connotations. Something one does not want to be accused of being. But it was explained to me in a different way this week: co-dependency occurs when a person is so concerned with how their actions/words/deeds make someone else feel, that they change their actions based on what they assume would be true, if they acted in a particular way. The first fallacy of this of course is that one can’t begin to assume how someone else will feel. Secondly, while it’s good to be mindful of others, and not deliberately do things to harm them, we can’t always concern ourselves with someone else’s feelings. What we need to focus on is whether what we are doing/saying is right in the eyes of God. If we are, and they get their feelings hurt, that is between them and Heavenly Father, not us.

If we worry too much about hurting others, we ourselves will never be happy, because we will set such a high standard of perfection for ourselves, in order to keep everyone else happy, that we will be miserable. The other problem is that we are setting ourselves up for failure. Most of us are hard on ourselves already. So if we automatically start assuming anything we do might hurt someone, we will always be down on ourselves, always playing the victim role, and we may have a few freaking-out sessions, which ultimately do what we were trying to avoid in the first place – make others angry or upset.

So what does that have to do with running in the snow?

All of my training the past month or so has focused on making others happy. Not running too fast so that my heart doesn’t act up. Making sure my form is perfect so my feet, ankles, and knees don’t hurt. Running longer distances, with hills, so that I can perform the hard legs of next month’s Ragnar with ease, so I don’t let down my team mates. And even increasing my mileage, and not focusing on sprinting, so that when Kermit and I really start training for Ironman, I can keep up with him and not let him down. Let me clarify though... remember part of co-dependency means you assume how others feel. So, my thinking Kermit has certain expectations for me is part of that. He's always proud of me after a race, always tells me how good I do, always encourages me when I'm struggling. Yes, he pushes me because he knows I can do it. But my concern about disappointing him comes from me, not from him.

While all these things have probably been preparing me physically, and aren’t necessarily a bad thing, mentally, it blew up in my face when I was met with something unexpected. Instead of zeroing in on making sure I am feeling good, feeling happy, and just listening to my body and mind as one entity, I had only focused on physical aspects. So mentally, I wasn’t prepared for running in the snow. I hadn’t trained myself to run this race because I love running and because it makes me happy – I’d trained to not let my ankles, knees, heart, or Kermit down (based on my own unrealistic standards). I should have trained myself to just go out there and enjoy the race, no matter the conditions, no matter my pace, no matter how I did in relation to Kermit, but to just focus on how it makes me feel to know I am doing something I never have before, and because I know that exercise is a good thing, and my Heavenly Father approves of my taking care of myself by getting some exercise. Forget that it’s a race. Just have fun.

I think in this case, I was being co-dependent on myself and on others. If my heart, knees, ankles, feet are all happy, I’ll be happy. If Kermit is happy with my race, then I’ll be happy. If the conditions are perfect – not too cold, good solid grip, then I can be happy and enjoy the race.

And that’s where I went wrong. And where I’ve been going wrong in my personal life for years. I’ve thought if I could be perfect enough, everyone would be happy with me, and I wouldn’t make anyone mad at me, and then I could be happy, because I’d know I’m loved. Over the years, I've especially tried to avoid making people angry at me and having them yell at me. But it doesn’t work that way. Because the truth is, I’m not perfect. And sometimes, I’m going to make people mad. Or sad. Or frustrated. And sometimes, people won’t love me. And that scares me. A lot. It’s a bigger fear than learning to swim.

But if I stop worrying about having perfect form, perfect race conditions, and pleasing Kermit, then I’ll enjoy my race. And I’ll be happy. Even if my knee hurts the next day. Even if I don’t finish as fast as I wanted to. And even if I totally beat Kermit (and make him a little mad at me, lol).

It’s the same thing with life. If I stop worrying about being perfect, of not offending or hurting or making anyone mad at me and stop worrying that they'll abandon me even if they do get mad at me sometimes, if I stop worrying about whether people will stop loving me if I mess up, because I know Heavenly Father loves me, and that’s enough, then I really will be happier. Because He is perfect, and has perfect love for me. I know if I accept that, then He can fill me with His love, and then I can simply love others. And I won’t just be happy, but I’ll find joy in life and in serving others.