Tomorrow morning I will run the IAU 100 km 2018 world championships. It's not going to go great. Well, okay, it could, there could be a miracle and I could have a good day. But all signs point to hyperventilating, a racing heart rate, and ultimately walking.
I've been thinking for awhile, the last few months, as this illness has affected me that maybe this is it. Maybe I'll retire from serious semiprofessional running after this race. I've accomplished so much. I haven't had the enthusiasm for training in 2018 that I have had in the past. Really, most of the fun of running is the day to day training. The thrill of a great workout when you fly and it feels easy. The confidence that comes from plugging away at a tough double the day after a hard workout. When you look at a mirror and see a muscle that you don't remember. When you laugh and cry with your friends who have suffered the trials of miles with you. When you see what is possible. Those are the things that keep me coming back and there have been precious few of those moments in 2018.
I was reading yesterday about Meb Keflezighi in 2007 and 2008 when he was 33 and didn't make the 2008 Olympics, after getting a silver medal in 2004. He thought about retirement at that point too. How can you not think about it? We race the clock for minutes, hours or days, but really there is a clock of years and months counting down until for whatever reason, it ends. I'm not ready to quit. I don't know what the future holds, it doesn't look the same as the past, that's for sure. It probably has more mountains in it and more training partners. Whatever the case, I'm not ready to quit.