5 1/2 years ago I ran my first race (not counting my one year of hs cross country back in 1980), a 5k which I ran in 22:xx. Last month I ran what will most likely be my final 5k, in 22:xx. In between those two races were highs and lows, injuries, goals met, and an overall sense of health and strength.
My final 2 races ended with not crossing the finish line. I've read how people dislike not finishing a race, that it somehow marks them as being weak-willed and soft. I withheld judgement on this attitude because I had yet to experience this until the past month. In the span of 14 days I came up short on a 100 and 50 mile race. While I was disappointed in not reaching the finish line there were too many positive things about these races to make me feel insecure or bitter. Having the strength and fitness to run/walk for 12 consecutive hours is a blessing, even if the goal was to go twice as long. Tired and sore, the glow of a long run is still bright, which makes my spirit rejoice.
I also found that being defeated by circumstance - the course, the malfunctioning of the body, etc. - is just as satisfying as being victorious. Upon deciding to stop in a race before finishing I am admitting that my limits have been reached for the day. How many times in my life will I reach a point where I say I can't go on any longer, that I gave it everything I had and still came up short? The 2 DNF's created a sense of wholeness and gave me a secret knowledge that I am willing to confront things which will beat me down and defeat me. To be vanquished is just as honorable as being victorious, as long as I hold the correct attitude in both instances.
On first glance it seems odd to end racing with two DNF's, as the redemption is left hanging, the supposed bitterness not washed away. But upon reflection I see it as the perfect ending - I bow in defeat, readying myself for a new direction.
