We All Have a Trail to Run.
Every time I visit my brother, he always wants me to join him on his trial runs. If you don’t know what a trail run is, it’s self-explanatory but I’ll lay it out for you just in case. Basically, just think about an intense mountain biking trail that you run.
The first time I ran a trail with him I thought oh this will be nice and chill – the weather was good, and I was confident in my ability to keep up with him. I did alright but was nowhere near his level. This kind of bread some fire in my soul that he beat me, not in a bad way at all more of a brotherly competition way. After I went back home, I decided I needed to train.
Every day after work I would drive up to Mount Nebo and hit the trails. The problem was that I was not dedicating the appropriate rest or nutrition to improve at all. I was only doing the same intensity and frequency of workouts I normally did, but adding an intense trail run at the end of the day. My body did not respond well to that. To bring it back to my obsessive need to burn calories and eat as low calorie as possible – part of me used the trail running and my want to improve as an excuse to just see more calories burned. I was doing it for the wrong reasons. I ended up burning out of trail running and stopped completely as I shifted my focus back to the gym.
About 3 or 4 months passed, and I did zero running. I made up all my cardio through the rowing machine. I will for sure be explaining my love for the rower – but that will take an entire blog to explain. So, this past week I was visiting my brother again in Northwest Arkansas. He wanted to trail run, so I obliged. I am always up for anything fitness related and knew it was going to be tough, but I just can't turn down an intense exercise session.
My brother is a guy that I have always looked up to. He is the oldest of the five kids in our family and post high school he was the one that left and never came back. This was something I respected and still respect. When I say he never came back I just mean that he figured it out on his own without having to come back home to recoup or readjust. He married the love of his life, found a solid job that he really cared about, and created a life for himself. Anytime I get the opportunity to go stay with him we always find the time to have meaningful conversations. We are similar in many ways – the things we care about, the routines we follow, and the dreams we have. I always leave his place with a sense of confidence and a fresh outlook on my goals.
Back to the trail. We rolled up to a new trail that I had never ran before with him. He mentioned he had started running this trail and really enjoyed it. I asked hesitantly if it was as long or difficult as the previous trail, we ran together 3 and a half months prior. He replied confidently – as he usually does – stating it was less steep and was a chill run. Through many times of hearing him say this and then close to dying on the trail, I always knew to take his “chill runs” serious because more than likely it was a very physically demanding run that was going to really test me. It immediately brought me back to a previous trail we had ran in Fayetteville. He picked me up from my apartment. It was almost December. There was about 45 minutes left of sunlight. Oh, and did I mention it was sleeting. I knew it was going to be absolutely brutal and was going to just plain hurt. I couldn’t say no though – it was the most physically demanding activity I had ever done. My WHOOP (fitness tracker) recorded the highest strain I had ever hit and my recovery that night was sitting around 7%. I am usually above 65% even after all my workouts I do daily – which I thought were intense. Needless to say, I knew the run wasn’t going to be all that chill.
We hit the trail. After about 4 and a half seconds I knew that I should have saved my legs. It was the wrong decision earlier that day when I decided to hit the rower for a solid 9 miles. He ended up running way in front of me and I was left to me own devices for the majority of the run. It was just me, myself, and I – oh and the odd number of armadillos rummaging through the sticks.
The run stunned me. The crisp October air with the sun setting and the quietness that filled the woods was so calming. Although I was physically laboring, I was at peace and my thoughts were flowing. They weren’t anxious or stress burdened, they were encouraging and determined. The ups and downs of the trail translated to thoughts of how life is somewhat of a trail run. It is tough uphill but the downhill that follows is freeing. There will always be ups and downs and while I was running on that trail, I realized you must accept the uphill that is coming your way. By facing it and realizing that I conquered the last uphill gave me confidence that I can get through anything. My brother who was killing the run and had killed many in the past was also running up and down the same hills.
There will always be someone better than you. Someone faster. More successful. A little bit stronger. The trail run gave me the clarity that they have hills also. What you see on the surface is generally not the entire picture. Don’t compare yourself to others that you think are doing “better” or “thriving”. We all have a trail to run. Run your own trail and enjoy it. Enjoy the battles, enjoy the burn of your thighs and calves, enjoy the out of breath feeling. These things are hard – yes – but they can also be motivators, learning lessons, and lead to a freedom you haven’t experienced yet.