Sarah has come back to running after a full ankle reconstruction and has continued to push her own boundaries in terms of distances, times and her own image of herself as a runner. A self-confessed and named ‘Turtle,’ she loves the trails and the trail running community. In this blog she writes in her own words about her journey of taking up running, through to completing a marathon and tackling an ultra marathon in 2019. Thank you so much to Sarah for contributing this story. This one is for all the turtles out there…
I had grand visions of being a seriously athletic, tall, lean strong runner that could leap into burning buildings and be the hero. You see the entire reason I started running was to be able to start the process of joining the Fire Service. Yep I was going to be a Fireman (or woman, whatever the politically correct term is for a chick Firefighter). I was a swimmer though, with the body type to match (think strong, broad shoulders and huge flippers for feet), making running a very unnatural movement. This coupled with the imprinting from a very young age of continually being informed that I was “not a runner”, “couldn’t run” and “wasn’t able to do it properly” left a nasty taste in my mouth and imprint on my mind. I was a turtle – better in the water than I ever was on land.
Slowly as I trained, the sessions sucked less. It didn’t feel like my lungs and heart wanted to explode out of my chest every single session. ‘Couch to 5km’ was my friend and running became, and still is, a solace, an escape from the world, time to be able to ignore everything else, to quiet that monkey mind a little, to focus on the simplicity of putting one foot in front of the other. This turtle slowly became a little better on the land.
Then it all changed. I couldn’t get fast enough to make the beep test requirement and my body revolted with chronic ITB and knee issues.
Down time was needed, and other factors of life came into play, so the firefighting dream changed to follow other paths – which is 100% ok now (at the time it wasn’t).
Eventually I could start running and training again. Better yet I could do it pain free, no niggles, no knee issues, just gliding, smooth, gazelle like movements. So I entered my very first event – cause that’s what you do as a “real” runner isn’t it? You take part in a mass event and get a medal?
The very first event I did was the Mother’s Day Classic 8km in Melbourne and that was HUGE for me. I remember it being FREEZING that day and it basically rained non-stop. It was so wet that by the time I finished it felt like I had peed my pants. I still remember seeing the photos, and the emotions that I had. I looked like a runner! I looked strong, lean, athletic and gazelle-like. This swimmer had become a runner! However, questions still remained… Was I a runner? How far could I actually run?
The next event I signed up for was the 21km at Melbourne Marathon, later that year. Two weeks into my training, I destroyed my ankle. It was so bad that it didn’t even hurt because I had so completely severed everything holding my ankle together that there was nothing left to hurt. In many respects I was lucky. I got to see amazing sports physicians and surgeons and I had a full ankle reconstruction straight way. This meant six full weeks of no weight bearing. Then another six months – yep a full six months, of learning to walk and move the ankle properly again before I could even think about running – this KILLED me inside. All those doubts and thoughts crept back in and I was in a dark head space. Those gazelle-like images disappeared and were replaced with some sort of baby giraffe, crossed with a hippo and those of darker things.
Eventually I started to run again, slowly, one awkward foot in front of the other again and again. Slowly, cautiously, the burning in the lungs started to disappear again and I found that elusive runner’s high and clarity once again.
Determined to pick up on my goal of making the full 21km distance, I ticked that off (to date I have completed over 20 half marathons and it is still my favourite distance). yet still wondered, can I go further? Am I a “runner” yet?
These bigger goals put me right out of my comfort zone and I had no idea how to approach the training or race day, so I sought help – enter Super Coach Chris.
Like the little engine that could, we plotted, planned and believed I could. We worked on crazy things like low heart rate training (yes, it’s horrible, yes, it drives you crazy and yes, you will go so very slow, but it is WORTH it in the long run (yes, pun intended)).
Every little session, every painstaking step was a little closer to feeling like a runner, to being able to go the distance. I even started to venture out in the trail world – and this is where I completely and utterly fell head over heels in love! There is nothing like it, being out there, and sometimes being so very much on your own that you wonder if you will ever see another human being. Tackling some of the toughest and most insane terrain, sometimes winning the battle with your head, sometimes with your heart and sometimes losing completely.
Somewhere during these adventures my internal image changed. I am strong, I am capable. I am not the thin, athletic gazelle that I originally dreamed of, but oh boy, do I love it! Am I a runner? YES, I am a TRAIL RUNNER.
The overall goal for the last couple of years has been to see how far I can actually go – no timeline, no pressure, but a long-term goal that can be broken down into tiny steps along the way. I still remember the training plan I received with the word marathon written on it. My heart stopped and wanted to escape, I was that terrified. By the time it came to event day, I was simply excited. I just wanted to run and face that distance. Was it easy? No. Was it a massive high? YES. I still get a buzz when I think about it.
This turtle then managed to pluck up the courage to tackle an ultra marathon. There it was written in front of me 50km. Fifty long, crazy, ROAD (ugggghhhh) kilometres. This turtle had to find its turbo in order to beat the cut-off time of seven hours, which was by far the scariest bit.
That seven-hour limit kept me up at night. I came to the resolution that I could do it, I just had to keep ahead of the pack van (trust me, you haven’t been a back of the pack runner until you have been chased by the pacman van (packvan) like some strange video game villain). In the end, all the hard effort and solo training hours were worth it, as I beat the cut off with a bit of time to spare.
But the adventure wasn’t over yet.
This turtle wanted back on the trails and the hefty goal of 55kms at the Great Ocean Walk 100km was set, with Wifey graciously accepting the second role in our team, completing the remaining 45kms.
We trained, we worked hard, we swore a lot. Some sessions just plain sucked, some didn’t go to plan. Some involved lots of fairy bread, sitting on rocks bawling and wanting to quit so bad that it hurt. I still maintain that it isn’t a trail run if at some point you don’t want to lie on the side in the foetal position and give up. The build up for both of us didn’t go perfectly, but over time I have learnt to be more adaptable, which I am very grateful for.
Event day (notice that I don’t use the word race? I don’t enter these things to win, I am generally last across the line, so for me they will always be events, not races) was not exactly textbook either. Mother nature was throwing everything she had at this event, so the decision was made that to keep all of us safe, changes and modifications needed to be made to the course.
Instead of the course being a full 100kms, it was going to be about 80kmish (cause trail running is all about the ish). Meaning that my 55kms had now turned into 40ish kms.
Mentally I had prepped for 55kms, so this was ok, and aside from it technically no longer being an ultra for me, I was excited to still be able to run.
We ran, we slipped, we stuck, and we ran some more. The weather was horrible, and the mud was so immense even my inner turtle felt at home. By the time I made it to the end of those 40ish kms, my body and mind felt like it had completed the full 55kms!
My newfound skills of being adaptable, saved my butt and enabled me to take the day as it was and enjoy it.
Am I ever going to look like a “runner” as far as society is concerned? Probably not. Do I care? Less and less. Do I feel like a runner? Hell yeah! Can my body do what I need it to do? Very much! Am I getting stronger? YES! Is this turtle finding its turbo? Slowly (pun intended).
As my running improves, as I get smoother, stronger and more aerobically fit, the worse my race photos get and the less impressed I am with how I look in them, the more I feel like a runner.
I see myself as a runner now. I am so very proud of everything I have achieved and terrified (but excited too) by what adventures may be ahead. This includes seeing how far I can run.
I am proud of finding my inner ability to change, adapt, and modify on the go (thank you trails! Because let’s face it, life isn’t perfect and things don’t always go to plan).
I am honoured to be a part of this amazing community and have the people in my life that I do now, that would have never been a part of it if this turtle out of water hadn’t made the most of the adventure.
My promise to myself is to continue to be the turtle, find a bit of turbo, and make the most of the adventure. To treasure those people that are in my life now and the running adventures that I get to go on, and see myself as a runner regardless of the turtle/giraffe/hippo form I take.
Let’s see exactly how far this little turtle can go!