I wasn't much of an athelete as a young kid, at least not in an organized way. I was crazy about my bike, horses, roller skating and swimming, but I didn't pursue anything competitively. My parents were way too self involved to shuttle me from thing to thing and I wasn't attracted to any of the competitive sports offered at my Catholic grade school (does anybody really like kickball?).
Then, for some unknown reason, I became a crazed runner. I joined the track team as a freshman in H.S. and went a little nuts. There was one spot on the Varsity distance team, and I decided that I just had to have it. I desperately wanted to ultimately be a four-year letterman (a big deal at my H.S).
So, I started to training and competing like crazy. I think I ran in at least three meets a week through the season, despite injuries, vomiting (from the exertion of a full-on 800 meters), sleeplessness (I became an insomniac because of my training in the evening). I made it, though, and set some school records in the 800 meters. I can't say that I enjoyed it, but I did it all the same.
My sophomore year, I joined the cross country team and again ran through some injuries but set some school records in the process. Unbeknownst to me, I had a stress fracture in my foot. Instead of sending me to the doctor, my coach would just tape my foot up really tight and send me on my way. After the run, he'd then make me stand in a bucket of ice to deaden the pain. I walked on the side of my foot for a good three months before finally going to the doctor. I wish I could say that this was in the dark ages of training or something, but it was 1985.
I spent the off season on crutches. By the following spring, my body started to really give out and I was going to physical therapy for one thing after another, until my doctor told me that I was essentially running myself into the ground. Burnt out and terribly unhappy with what seemed like a monumental failure, I quit the team and never returned. I've always kind of regretted it, especially since I still don't enjoy running. It did help me recognize that I have a somewhat obsessive personality about certain things that I have to reign in from time to time so that I don't ruin something that I love. With cycling, I've remained motivated but not crazed about it. It helps that it's not as hard on my body.
Live with intention. Walk to the edge. Listen hard. Practice wellness. Play with abandon. Laugh. Choose with no regret. Continue to learn. Appreciate your friends. Do what you love. Live as if this is all there is.
--Mary Anne Radmacher