Field Notes: Am I Broken?

Two years of setbacks, and what I misread.

Steady. I take deep, relaxed breaths. My eyes are locked a few meters ahead. Focused on keeping my steps as even as possible up this root-covered trail. I check in — this feels easy and relaxed — perfect. Keep that rhythm.

Forty-five minutes later I reach the top. My legs feel it. The view opens up. I take it all in.

I love this sport. And I’m starting to feel a bit overwhelmed. The past two years didn’t look like how I imagine living this sport. I know deep down I have to make a change. I feel an immense urgency. Paired with a feeling of ownership. Nobody will fix that for me. I need to be my own advocate.

So, Am I Broken?

I know how the brain works. Repeat something enough times and it ingrains itself. Becomes automatic. Pair this with repeated setbacks and it becomes harder and harder to work against your own intuition.

Start running, get injured. Repeat.

At what point do you stop being confident that you can do anything you want? It becomes increasingly challenging.

Over the past two years I had a lot of what felt like random setbacks. Naturally, the subconscious starts to surface unhelpful thoughts. It’s important to be aware when that happens. Because eventually the thought that I’m not made for this — that I’m broken — started to surface.

I come back to awareness often. That was one of those moments when it’s helpful to listen. Not judge the thought. Just be aware. Be curious. Why does it come up? Why would I think that? Is it true?

For me, this was a clear trigger to look at my actual reality (I wrote about this last week).

Result? I’m not broken. I was just not training smart. Based on a reality I actually wasn’t living. I was doing way more than I could handle. While also ignoring things I knew I needed to keep working on.

The Confidence Picture

For years I’ve built my training around confidence. Let me explain. I don’t solely place a workout in my calendar because it improves my metabolism. I place it there — and structure it — so that it lays another brick of proof. Proof that I can do something.

Often I choose those bricks based on the unique requirements of a race. Steep climbing. Technical downhills. If a race is far out, it’s about improving known weaknesses.

What I learned from my thorough analysis of the past two years is that I’d simply forgotten about my weaknesses.

• Regular strength sessions? Rarely.

• Daily mobility snacks targeted at my desk-job-induced weaknesses? Equally rare.

• Proper programming? Kind of, sprinkled with objectively bad decisions.

For someone building an app around longevity in this sport, you could say I’m not the best example of practising how I think about training. Part of me knew that already — which is probably why the app is very much for me too. But I’m derailing.

The Shift

I found a lot of motivation in the past two weeks. Not in a way that I’ll burn all my matches right away. More this calm confidence that it will play out. I know what I didn’t do. I know what I can improve. There’s so much I can do better that the voice saying you are broken now gets a clear answer: “No, I was just training stupidly.”

So is there really a big shift? When I started to write today’s letter, I thought so. But now that I put my thoughts on paper, I’m not so sure anymore. The shift is probably just remembering what I already did well in the past. To root my training not in what I think I did, but in what I actually did.

I kind of don’t want to do that. I want to have an objective tool that just tells me — this is smart and this is not. But I can tell you this: I had a refreshing week of strength sessions, daily (short) mobility sessions, and some calm, free-minded runs.

And I often just smiled.