I always push myself during our running club’s Wednesday afternoon time trial. The time trial from two Wednesdays ago was no different. I pushed and pushed some more; I ran my heart out. Yet my watch recorded a disappointing 38m 17s — more than two minutes slower than the former time I ran it!

Back at our clubhouse I reluctantly filled in my time on our leaderboard sheet. Our club chairman spotted me and asked, “How did your run go?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore. Regardless of how hard I try, I am just not improving. I keep getting slower!” I answered as truthfully as I could, feeling myself tearing up at the verbal confirmation of my hopelessness.

The Sunday before that disappointing time trial, I ran one of my worst half-marathons ever. During the last two kilometres of that 21.1 kilometres, I was so tired that I resorted to walking — something I hardly ever do when I’ve committed to running a particular route.

Back home from the time trial, I felt like I want to retire my running shoes. I was not enjoying running anymore! A shocking admission for someone who wrote an entire chapter of more than 4000 words on how much she loves running in her book. I felt down, despondent and tired. None of the activities I previously enjoyed doing was fun anymore — I’d prefer to do nothing all day, every day. The irony of the situation is that everything around me was going so fantastically well; I had no reason for feeling the way I felt! It was as if my feelings didn’t match my environment.

The next day I slept in, refusing to rise early for a run. I didn’t feel like myself the entire day. By that afternoon I asked my doctor if I could come for some blood tests in the morning — I believed that my iron levels were acting up again. I felt tired and couldn’t seem to snap out of my fowl mood! That afternoon I also skipped our Thursday activity at the club, something else I don’t do without good reason.

The following morning, a Friday morning, was another sleep-in morning. I didn’t even feel up to a simple walk. I went for my blood tests but was surprised to notice myself feeling better by that afternoon. I have enough experience from struggling with my iron to know that an iron issue doesn’t just go away without you doing something about it. My problem must be something else.

Although I slept in again that Saturday morning, I felt significantly better. So much so that I decided to go for a short, albeit late morning, run. That run didn’t feel like something I dreaded doing. That run felt good and gave me time to ponder the possibility that perhaps I am simply tired. But being tired seemed like a strange idea — I do rest!

Since joining the running club towards the end of 2021, I have been diligent with resting on Mondays and Fridays. But, since the start of 2022, I have been incorporating walking into my exercise routine. Before I knew it, I walked five kilometres on Monday and Friday mornings instead of sleeping in and resting. I didn’t consider walking to be the same level of exercise as running; I still regarded it to be a rest from running. I was patting myself on the back as I found a way to work in a bit of exercise each day — other than the resistance training I usually do on a rest day.

When I became comfortable running half-marathons, I started running a half-marathon each weekend. I thought I was doing well until I wasn’t anymore! I did not register what was happening until I convinced myself that: I was not a runner, I would never improve, I would always run poorly.

Is anyone else also spotting the problem? How was I so blind to not seeing it earlier?

Seeing as I was already in the mental space of contemplating finding myself another sport to partake in, I thought: ‘What do you have to lose by taking a proper break and seeing what happens?’

As it turned out, a break did me a world of good.

By the following Monday morning, my colleagues commented on how much better I looked and sounded. My doctor’s office phoned later that morning with the results of my blood tests indicating no problems found — I was silly to think that the problem must be there in the first place. The Wednesday afternoon I ran a personal best time for the club time trial. And by Saturday I ran a suspicion confirming ten kilometres at a decent pace feeling like my old self again.

I did have to resist the urge of going for a walk on Friday morning though. I felt like I wanted to go for a walk. I was lying in my bed and contemplating it. I thought of other people exercising and how lazy I was to be resting.

Somehow I have to stop thinking of resting as being lazy and start treating it as a necessity. Fighting the mental battle is always so much more challenging!