Quit Running (Almost)

I was done with running, but it wasn’t done with me.

The journey has not been easy. For some reason shin splints fell in love with me for the first two years of collegial running. I tried strengthening drills to break  up with them, but I failed. I tried heel raise, toe raise and I used all the resistance exercise bands available in the trainers’ room. No matter what I did the shin splints never got the memo that I did not want them.  

After suffering from shin splints for two years,  I had forgotten how it feels to run pain free. Pain had become normality in my runs. I could not tell how I was supposed to feel when running. It hurt physically but even worse pain emotionally. I knew that the pain was preventing me to be the best I could be. My dream of running with teammates was non-existent.  Everyday spent on the elliptical felt like the suffering would never end. It hurt. It  hurt so bad that I wanted to quit. At the beginning of summer 2012 I had drafted an email to the coaches informing them that I was done with running.

My second season running with the Norse, we started saying chants before racing. These were the chants I learned in my Swazi high schools. We would say these chants to motivate our teams, regardless of the sport. They were mainly chanted during track and field, and football (soccer) matches. Even though I could not share my running with the team, the chants filled that gap. They gave me a reason to be part of the LCXC family and continue with therapy in the trainer’s room. My favorite chant was the one we did the last two seasons of cross country. It went like this -

Leading the chant:  Niyabesaba na!

    (Do you fear them)  

Respondents:  Hhayi asibesabi siyabafuna!

(Hell No! we do not, we want them)

The chant invaded my head after drafting my “Quit Running” e-mail and I could not stop saying it. I started saying it on every run. I would still take some days off and spend quality time with the elliptical. When the XC season began, I taught it to the team and we had great time racing. Of course I paid the price on the following mornings for racing on shin splints but it was worth every single centimeter I raced during the weekend.

Today, I use the same chant to energize my run as I dance to climb a hill or think about the 26 or even 50 miles that lie ahead of me in a race.

My First ultra race - Deadman Peaks 50miler Trail Run