And I did, for a while. Crossing the finish line vindicated years of not being able to run. Months of training and preparing for this race, pushing through pain and self-doubt, spending a great deal of my free time either preparing for or recovering from long runs — it all led up to this point. I was on cloud nine, ready to celebrate and take things easy for a while. I rode that high for days.
Then they hit me: the post-race blues.
The euphoria after completing a challenging race like the half marathon is certainly worth celebrating; but after the initial elation wears off, I sit here, pensive and baffled.
After conducting a bit of research, I learn post-race blues are common among athletes of all kinds. Whether your first or 15th big race, a sense of melancholy tends to set in once that seemingly insurmountable goal has finally been accomplished. Many are left with an uncomfortable emptiness.
It isn’t that I am depressed, really — just a little lost. I have known exactly what I’ve been working towards ever since I signed up for this race; exactly what I will do when I wake up every day of the week, exactly what I will say when people ask what’s new with me.
Though I doubted myself many times during training, I always knew deep down I had to finish this race. Each time I felt a twinge in my knee or hit a wall mid-run with several miles still to go, I reminded myself this race wasn’t only something I wanted to do — it was something I needed to do. And then, finally, it was something I actually did. I gave it everything I had.
So now what? What am I working towards? What is my next big goal?
I give myself a few days to wallow. In attempt to gain motivation, I check out pictures from the Sarasota Music Half Marathon and realize my best solution is signing up for another event. I look for a full marathon, which seems only natural since I have just completed the half.
Luckily, my wife Stephanie is far more logical than I am, and reminds me I am just getting back into running — do I honestly think it’s a good idea to double my distance and training time so soon?
She’s right, I know. Plus, there are no marathons nearby until much later in the year. I decide to keep my eyes peeled for a full marathon this fall and commit to maintain my base mileage in case I go for it (spoiler alert: I am definitely going for it). Then a new race catches my eye: the St. Anthony’s Triathlon. I have heard great things about this event, and it is close enough to where I live that I can actually walk there.
A familiar buzz arises inside of me as I read about the triathlon: Roughly half-mile swim, followed by a 12 mile bike ride and a three mile run. My eyes brighten as I study pictures of the course and search for online training programs. This is my next bold move.
I sign up for St. A’s and grab my car keys. Post-race blues ain’t got nothin’ on me. This girl needs a new pair of running shoes.
This article appears in Mar 16-23, 2017.