ADHD is something I have lived with my entire life; I had behavior charts in elementary school, I used to disrupt class for talking too much, I make impulsive decisions, my energy has energy, and my mind is constantly wandering. My ADHD symptoms sometimes make life a lot more stressful, which has probably led to my anxiety. I get nervous about managing my time, and I worry about the little things in life because I fear that if I don’t I will forget something important. When I get anxious I do not think as clearly, worsening my ADHD symptoms. While my life can be stressful at times I would not be the person I am today if it were not for my ADHD and anxiety; my imagination fuels my writing and my adventurous spirit, not to mention I am never bored because I am constantly finding new interests. I may get hyper focused on certain things that spark my interest, but that is what drives me to be the best in any class, hobby, and sport that may spark my interest.
Athletics have always been a good outlet for my energy, while giving me some structure in my life. When I was younger I constantly changed my focus from sport to sport because the moment I lost interest in one sport I would find a new one. By the time I reached high school I mainly focused on field hockey, while dabbling in lacrosse and track and field. While it may seem great that I was able to keep my focus on one sport I actually was creating self-imposed boundaries on how I defined myself and how I saw my future. People with ADHD and anxiety tend to become hyper focused on what is working well and are less-likely to try new things for fear that it might not work out. I became focused on playing field hockey in college, because every year I saw my older teammates go off to college and continue their athletic careers: I just assumed that was what I needed to do. I thought I would have wasted all the time I had put into playing field hockey if I hung up my stick after high school. By the end of my junior year I verbally committed to a Division 1 University to play field hockey. I had accomplished my goal to play at the highest level of competition, but I made an impulse decision to commit to the first D1 College that gave me an offer. Once I committed I erased all the fear I had about not getting to play in college, but I also eliminated any other opportunity that may have came my way.
I had no clue what it really meant to be an D1 athlete when I arrived on campus for pre-season training in the middle of August in 2013. For two weeks I did nothing but eat, sleep, cry, and play field hockey; I pushed myself to a breaking point. I had difficulty concentrating and making decisions; I looked lost and confused every time I stepped out on the field. I could not focus on anything my coaches were telling me, earning numerous amounts of punishment runs. I felt guilty for not being the best I could be for my team. A week and a half into pre-season four girls had quit; I thought I was letting everyone down no matter what—if I decided to keep playing or if I decided to quit like the others. I had always managed my ADHD and anxiety through psychotherapy and a strong support system, but my former coping mechanisms where not working. Although I always had been able to rise to any challenge thrown my way, I just couldn't seem to get my mind in the right place so that my body could perform to the best of my abilities. I was pessimistic and thought my coaches had every right not to believe in me.
Many of the greatest athletes have struggled with ADHD and anxiety, but they have still risen to be their best. They have strategies and coping mechanisms that help them to keep focused on their goals. I did not have those strategies in place, because I refused to believe that I had a real problem. I did not want to change my treatment plans even though I was in desperate need to. If field hockey were not enough of a stressor, I was also coping with all the other stresses college Freshman face such as handling college classes, living away from home, making new friends, and figuring out my future. With the stress of starting my freshman year at college and our season opener looming over me I finally made the decision to quit...yes QUIT.
I failed as a D1 athlete because I was not playing for any of the right reasons. I committed to play field hockey in college because of the boundaries I set for myself. I was never committed to the University because I loved the academic opportunities the school offered or even because I liked the field hockey program; I committed because it was the first offer that fit my idea of what I was supposed to do. I may have been good enough physically to play D1, but I did not have the mentality of a D1 athlete. I failed because I was not addressing the underlying problems I was facing. I failed because this was not the path for me.
I would not trade my struggles with field hockey for anything. The adversity I faced helped me to see that managing my ADHD and anxiety was, and will always be, a work in progress. Sometimes I may struggle, but I always am able to pick my cards up and use the hand I have been dealt to succeed and be the very best version of me. I ended up transferring to the University of Pittsburgh my sophomore year, where I would go on to graduate with honors, take the SWEETEST job on Earth, and find a passion for running and obstacle course racing.
A week and a half ago I set out to run my 3rd marathon in 365 days. I woke up feeling fantastic and prepared the morning of the 2017 Philadelphia Marathon. I was set on running a sub 3:45 marathon. Up until mile 10.5 everything was going perfectly, until I took one wrong step and injured my ankle. I pushed forward for a few more miles until taking my first DNF (Did Not Finish) at mile 14. Dealing with my first DNF has reminded me of some painful memories. I am reminded that although I have the talent to reach my goals, sometimes things just do not work out the way I planned. Although I was devastated about my 3rd marathon attempt, I learned a few things about myself and the sport I love.
The first person besides my family who I talked to after DNFing was a fellow DNFer who I met on the painful walk from the marathon back to my hotel. She came all the way from Florida to run her 10th marathon and BQ for a third time in the past three years. However, her plans fell through just like me that morning and she took her first DNF. (For those not acquainted with the term BQ, it means qualifying for the Boston Marathon) On our walk back she said something that will stay with me forever: "Today was not your day. It sucks. It sucks that you could not finish. It sucks that I could not finish. But, we both have one thing in common. We have finished marathons before, including the Philadelphia Marathon. I know I can finish 26.2 miles and I know you can finish 26.2 miles because we HAVE finished 26.2 miles multiple times before. Today we made a choice, the choice to run another day". She reminded me that sometimes the difficult choice is the right choice. Sometimes we will not accomplish our short-term goals if they will prevent us from reaching our lifetime goals.
The next thing I took away from my DNF is that it is nothing special or uncommon. Almost every blog post concerning DNFs and pretty much every runner and coach I have talked to about racing has said the same thing: almost every runner will DNF at some point in their career. From the elites all the way down to the weekend warrior, most runners cannot run away from a DNF, as everyone is vulnerable to having a bad day whether its due to the weather, the course (slanted roads, pot holes, etc.), a physiological issue (electrolyte imbalance, diarrhea, etc.), an injury (IT band issues, stress fractures, etc.), and sometimes it may just simply not be your day. It really does not matter why you DNFd, what matters more is how you will move forward so that after the next race you run a finishing time will be the only result next to your name.
The last lesson I learned is actually the first lesson running ever taught me. In my first half marathon recap I wrote about some lessons I learned from running. Lesson 1: I may not be able to control everything life throws at me, but I am in control of keeping a positive and determined attitude no matter what. I can't control the weather, I can't control how I will feel on race day, and I certainly do not have control over a freak accident that leads to injury. I am taking control of the situation by accepting my disappointing results for what they are. I did not want to DNF. It absolutely sucks, but it happened and I cannot go back in time and change it. I also cannot keep dwelling on it because no amount of crying, complaining, or wishing it did not happen is going to change what happened. I hate that I injured myself and I am also sick of reliving the moment I "threw in the towel". I am ready to, as my parents put it so eloquently, "SUCK IT UP BUTTERCUP and GET OVER IT".
My physical and mental health always will come before any athletic pursuit. The last time I walked away from a sport I ended up finding who I am, what I am capable of, and how far I can go when I put my mind to something. My doctor told me it is imperative that I take a break from running in order to properly rehab my ankle, but this does not mean I am running away from racing or OCR. I am going to do everything my doctor says and work my butt off to rehab my ankle properly, so that WHEN I come back I will be a stronger, faster, and a more confident runner!! I know I run faster, work harder, and have more motivation to be my best when I am training and competing to be the best I can be and having fun! The moment I forget this is the moment I will DNF every time a challenge is thrown my way in life.
