{"id":599,"date":"2017-06-20T16:05:09","date_gmt":"2017-06-20T16:05:09","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.ameliabooneracing.com\/blog\/?p=599"},"modified":"2017-06-21T17:48:38","modified_gmt":"2017-06-21T17:48:38","slug":"race-happy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.ameliabooneracing.com\/blog\/uncategorized\/race-happy\/","title":{"rendered":"Race Happy"},"content":{"rendered":"

I feared my return to racing<\/a>, and I faced that fear. I feared not being the athlete that I once was, and I\u2019ve wrestled with my struggle to live up to those expectations in the rebuilding process.<\/p>\n

What I haven\u2019t talked about, however, is that there is another reason I feared returning to racing, and this one is more difficult to grapple with than worrying about sub-par race results.<\/p>\n

I feared my own return to racing because I feared the person racing makes me.<\/p>\n

And I didn\u2019t want to go back to her.<\/p>\n

For as much as I love the sport<\/em> of obstacle racing, I wasn\u2019t quite sure I actually loved the circuit of\u00a0racing<\/em> anymore.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

As I\u2019ve talked about repeatedly in the past (seriously, take your pick of podcasts\u2026), I came into obstacle racing in a roundabout way. I did things backwards. I started with the ultimate sufferfests \u2013 with the 24-hour World\u2019s Toughest Mudder, with Death Races, with races that lasted up to 72 hours. I started with Tough Mudders and not Spartan Races BECAUSE there was no timing involved. I took on GoRucks<\/a> and Death Races<\/a> because the only thing that mattered was finishing \u2013 there was no winning (well, Joe Desena might disagree).<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
The finish line of the 2012 UltraBeast, and ALL the joy<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

 <\/p>\n

It took me 2 years to run a \u201cregular\u201d length Spartan Race, which happened to be the Spartan Race World Championships. In 2013, after crossing the finish line as the victor, I remember walking down to the lake at the bottom of the Killington Ski Resort and sitting in the water, cooling off my exhausted legs. I looked around and said to myself \u201cthis is going to change everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

And it did.<\/p>\n

But not in the way you would think. Sure, with being a world champion came sponsorships, articles, magazine covers. With it came adoration and respect and feeling legitimized as an athlete. But with it also came a feeling of expectation and pressure \u2013 expectations to run races that didn\u2019t really thrill me (hello 3 mile sprints!), the pressure of a NBC televised series \u2013 all race lengths that sounded like my worst nightmare. These were races that were all a far cry from the 24-72 hour endurance races that gave me so much joy in the beginning, that drew me into the community in the first place.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
No one wins here (except frostbite). Yet I loved it.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

 <\/p>\n

Yet, I signed up. I said yes. I picked races because those are the ones I \u201cshould\u201d do, and I sat out of others that I really wanted to do in order to save myself for the championship series, for the ones with the prize purses and the television cameras. The further I went down the rabbit hole with these shorter distances, the more of an emotional and mental wreck I became. I could hold my own at these distances, and keep it together (aside from a lot of swear words) in front of the cameras, but winning no longer became something I was thrilled about \u2013 winning was a relief. I spent days before these races an absolute wreck \u2013 crying, imagining phantom injuries, swearing my retirement, fearful of what would happen if I didn\u2019t win, if national television documented my less-than-stellar performance. I shut out friends, I spent hours on the phone crying to my parents. My engagement fell apart in large part due to my inability to cope with juggling my professional life and the constant obligatory racing, and I watched a man I loved walk away because of the person I had become.<\/p>\n

I hit emotional rock bottom the day I ran the Spartan Race World Championships in 2015 on a stress fracture I had told no one about, not even my physical therapist. The sad thing was I wasn’t even excited about running the championships – I was mostly upset that I had sat out the Barkley Fall Classic 3 weeks before (a race I REALLY wanted to do) in order to be “fresh” because people “expected” me to win. I spent the week leading up to the race in a walking boot, dodging anyone who might see me in it, only taking it off for the race, and hiding it in my luggage. The next morning, I strapped it back on, ashamed of what racing had brought me to.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
Trying to keep the wheels on at SRWC in 2015<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Through the help of loved ones and some great Tough Mudder friends, I managed to find some semblance of peace before World\u2019s Toughest Mudder in 2015<\/a>, and, after that, I thought it was finally my time to follow my heart. To shift focus to the longer endurance events that were my roots, to the ones genuinely made me smile. I\u2019d been eyeing ultras as a new challenge, and in securing a Golden Ticket<\/a> to Western States 100 in June 2016, I saw it as a natural transition.<\/p>\n

But a case of the femurs<\/a> changed all of that.<\/p>\n

Suddenly, Western States was gone. Suddenly, OCR was taken from me. My perfectly laid out plans of shifting my focus on own terms were taken from me. Injury had (literally) stolen my ability to walk away.<\/p>\n

So I did what any other hyper-competitive athlete would do \u2013 I got angry. And I pushed and pushed to try and make a triumphant comeback at Spartan Race World Championships 2016 and World\u2019s Toughest Mudder 2016. I remember standing there on crutches at Western States, Diet Coke tucked into my sports bra (pro tip: sports bras hold EVERYTHING when you are on crutches), telling Rose Wetzel I couldn\u2019t wait to come back and \u201ccrush bitches.\u201d Not the best choice of words, but I was hungry, and I was angry.<\/p>\n

And as I\u2019ve talked about repeatedly, it\u2019s almost textbook what happened: In pushing so hard through that anger, I broke myself again<\/a>.<\/p>\n

And while those five extra months on the sidelines from the sacral stress fracture were traumatic, it did force me to really step back and ask WHY<\/strong>. Why<\/em> was I pushing so hard, and Why<\/em> was I doing all of this? Why<\/em> was I trying to get back to something that, if you asked so many people around me, made me miserable. When I added in race week stress on top of a stressful professional career, I was a powder keg waiting to explode. In an ironic twist of fate – the activity, the hobby, the sport that I had started back in 2011 as a \u201cstress-release\u201d from work ended up being more a stressor than my regular day job.<\/p>\n

I heard a quote the other day on TED Radio Hour by David Brooks (politics and your feelings about him aside) which struck me: “The central lie of American life is that success leads to happiness. And that’s just not true.” For so long, I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t happy, even though I was winning. Even though I was at the top of the sport. In fact, the more success I had, the more miserable I became.<\/p>\n

Parts of me thought to hang up my obstacle racing shoes after this past 18-month gap in racing. That maybe my best athletic days are behind me, but more importantly, maybe I\u2019m just a happier person when I\u2019m not constantly freaking out about an upcoming race. And that, for all the good racing has done for me, maybe it wasn\u2019t worth the mental anguish of \u201cgetting back.\u201d<\/p>\n

But there was a different voice that was also whispering, a different kind of monkey on my back: maybe, just MAYBE \u2013 I could change my relationship with racing. Maybe that’s what I needed \u2013 maybe I could learn how to handle the pressure constructively, and maybe I could finally nut up do what was right for ME, not what I thought everyone else expected. And maybe being sidelined was the catalyst I needed to change that relationship by taking control of that relationship.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
More of these, please<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Someone asked me the other day if I wanted to win another world championship. \u201cSure,\u201d I responded, \u201cthat\u2019d be fantastic.\u201d He responded that I didn\u2019t sound that enthused.<\/p>\n

And I wasn\u2019t. Because I\u2019ll let you in on my racing goals this year. There\u2019s just one.<\/p>\n

To race happy<\/em><\/strong>. <\/em><\/p>\n

Now, I\u2019m not going to bullshit you and pretend that I don\u2019t care about results. Of course I do \u2013 any competitive athlete would be lying through their teeth if they said otherwise. But what I\u2019ve realized from these past few years is that results feel hollow if there\u2019s no joy in the racing, if you are racing out of expectation. Podiums are meaningless if you spend the weeks leading up to a race an absolute miserable human being (which isn\u2019t fair to myself or anyone else in my life). There will come a day when I\u2019m no longer able to race, and if I destroy everything else in my life in the meantime to be singularly fixated on that goal, then what will I have left?<\/p>\n

So in deciding to race again, I vowed to myself that this season and this year is a new challenge \u2013 different from any one I\u2019ve tackled in the past. I\u2019m not racing the U.S. Championship Series, or to win a world championship. I\u2019m racing to see if I can race like I did in the early days of the sport \u2013 with passion, gratitude, and a perspective on things that really matter in life. With smiles and high-fives beforehand, and with beers and friends afterwards.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve known for a long time that the races that make me the happiest are the long, hard sufferfests (hi World\u2019s Toughest Mudder<\/a>, Ultrabeasts<\/a> and ultras<\/a>!). \u00a0While the circuit of the short races tore me apart on the inside, I always looked forward to a 24-hr slog in the desert with a smile. And I finally put together WHY that is: because the longer the race gets, the more the race is about others.<\/strong> It’s about the shared suffering. It’s about the random run-ins with other athletes at 2am when you are peeing in your wetsuit. \u00a0It’s about the stories and it’s about the bonds that are formed by that. And THAT’S the reason I started in this world so many years ago – for the process. And that’s the reason I keep coming back to it. It’s for that connection, that growth, and those memories. And the community that I love so dearly.<\/p>\n

But the rub is that those are the races that take the longest time to build up to (when you are starting over from\u2026zero), so in the meantime, as I rebuild, I\u2019m using the shorter stuff as tune-ups and mile markers for when I can finally return to those. And I’m biding my time with patience, knowing that those long sufferfests I hold so dear will be in the cards once again.<\/p>\n

Some people have questioned why I jumped back into racing before I was 100% in terms of fitness and strength. Had my goals been to stand on top of the podium, I probably would have waited. But part of the challenge to me was to see if I was happy while racing, even if I\u2019m not standing on the podium.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
Monterey this past month: the happiest I’ve raced in a LONG time.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

I\u2019m happy to report that, so far, I think it\u2019s working. For the first time in a long time, I’m smiling before races. I’m more relaxed. I’m learning that it’s ok to say no to races you “should” do. It’s ok to not chase the money and the TV cameras and the championships if those things come at the cost of destroying other aspects of your life. It’s ok to walk away from things that aren’t meant for you. It doesn’t make you a quitter to chose a different path.\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
Calm for the win, always<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

And my path is me plotting a schedule, not around races that have the prize purses and the TV cameras attached, but around races that I truly want to do, \u00a0and around new challenges I\u2019ve yet to take on (including kicking it in the broadcast booth for some of the races doing my best Troy Aikman impression). For the first time in several years, I\u2019m listening to my heart (apparently, I still have one of those) to find my joy. I’m finally giving myself permission to say “no” to races that don’t speak to me, and I’m saying “yes” to things that excite me. It may be my last obstacle racing season (or it may not); but if it is, I want to go out with the smiles that have eluded me in recent racing years. And you know what? I’ve found that the “shoulds” that I followed these past years were all internal – my sponsors and people in my life support my path, whatever I chose (THANK YOU!). I’m grateful to be out there. I’m thankful to a sport and a community that’s given me so much for some time rolling around in the mud. And I’m stoked for a season of genuine smiles, cheers, and giving back to this sport as much as it’s given me.<\/p>\n

And you know what? By giving myself permission to say no, I’m giving myself permission to say yes.<\/p>\n

Yes to my own path.<\/p>\n

Yes to new adventures.<\/p>\n

Yes to racing happy.<\/p>\n

So if you see me out on the course this year, ask me if I\u2019m smiling. If you are sending good vibes and well wishes to me before races, don\u2019t tell me \u201cgood luck\u201d or \u201ckick ass\u201d or (god forbid) \u201cI hope you win,\u201d \u2013 instead, please tell me to \u201chave fun.\u201d \u00a0And if you catch me after a race, give me a hug, hand me a beer, and tell me about your day.<\/p>\n

I love this sport, I love this community, and I’m saying yes to happiness.<\/p>\n

Podium of life, here I come.<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I feared my return to racing, and I faced that fear. I feared not being the athlete that I once was, and I\u2019ve wrestled with my struggle to live up to those expectations in the rebuilding process. 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