Choose Your Own Adventure
The last time I remember walking through those glass doors at Randal Tyson’s Indoor track was nine years ago.
When I was a largely forgotten has-been.
I had a different coach.
Under very different circumstances.
I walked through those same doors today not at all the same woman I was then.
I know how beautiful that is.
I know, on paper, how hard that is to believe.
Over the last nine years my body has both done everything it could to die, and everything it could to survive after it changed its mind not to.
Nine years ago, I ran 7.02 here. In that lane.
Today…I ran a time I didn’t even run in high school. And yet today was a win for me.
My goals were to
get back out there.
It’s hard to make a “comeback” publicly. It invites people who aren’t familiar with the intimate details of your journey to judge it. It opens you up the inevitable eventuality of comparison to others in the field, and to who you once were. It forces you to put your earphones in and your blinders on, to check your ego at the door and put one step in front of the other, because this is a necessary but difficult step on the road back. But there’s no time like the present.
And that’s true even if we weren’t in a pandemic. Perfectionist though I am, I would NEVER ever compete if I waited until I was ready to.
My second goal was to control the conversation I have with myself. In lane seven, in the 60 meter final I was voted into via twitter (thanks for that!) I had a moment, wasn’t this the same lane? I asked myself.
This is where you reemerged as a sprinter. Beating people you “weren’t supposed to beat.” Where your campaign to your first Olympic Team began.
And today, even after running a time that I would have scoffed at in my previous life I said thank you to my body. For all of the surviving and trying it does. And thank you to my mind for stepping out of my own way long enough to do the vulnerable thing- showing up as not even a fraction of my former self-on paper.
And then in the long jump…the last time I took a full jump off my left leg was when? Every season without fail my first jump meet is a nerve wracking performance. I doubt myself, stutter step, foul, forget to jump (yes…this is a thing).
But not today.
Today, each approach was on. Each run smooth. Each initiation done with the fearlessness and confidence of someone who believed in herself.
I didn’t jump 6 meters today. Not even close. And part of me thought I’d descend into that pit I’ve often found myself in over the last three years, “JB was right, I’m nothing without him.” Or, “you’re out here proving NIKE was right to ditch you.”
And none of that happened. Or at least when they arose I swatted them away like the pesky mosquitoes they are.
Because for me, the truth is- my body and my spirit have been through a lot. The trauma, physically, emotionally, and mentally were severe. And as much as I’d like to say “Tianna it’s an important year so you need to recover on this timeline, come on.”
Healing doesn’t give a f**k about the calendar. Do I want it to perfectly align? Absolutely. But it takes what it takes, and it’s better to do what you can with the body you have on the day that you have it than to
Force it against its will or…
Do nothing at all.
So what did I learn today? A few things, I have my brain back. It had been hijacked for so long but I now know that it belongs to me. It reminds me of a conversation I had with Justin Gatlin a few years ago, another unflattering story had been published about him and his team, and I asked him how he can continue to keep on, seemingly unbothered by the all “talk” about him. And he said, “you can opt out of the rat race.”
Which I heard but didn’t understand until recently. You can opt out of the idea that you are only as valuable as your last performance. It feels that way when you cash that quarterly check, earn those bonuses, get the medals, and get cozy in the hospitality rooms when you’re winning.
But when that’s gone…you can see how much that reality colors the truth. The truth that you are just you. And you can and should assign your own value. That way you’re free to enjoy the “we’re family” speeches you get from those shoe company execs when you’re on top- but you aren’t living and dying for them.
I’d say that I’ve been attempting to opt out of the rat race for the last three years, trying to rediscover self worth, self belief, and self esteem- defined by me and only me. It was only when Nike blessed me with not resigning me (and yes that was actually a blessing for me) that I was officially OUT.
Now I’m choosing my own adventure. And if you remember those books (if you’ve ever taken a yoga class with me you hear me say this way too much) you decide what’s next. And if you read them like I would, you’d choose one….go to page 97 or whatever…decide you DO NOT like that adventure after all, retrace your steps, and choose another adventure.
I didn’t know it then, but life is largely the same way, the journey isn’t linear, not at all— and neither is healing. But the one thing that you have to do is show up for it.
I’ll voice one of the fears that keeps me up at night: That I’ll never be the sprinter-jumper I once was. Never again. That I’m fighting past my prime. That this is all just simply embarrassing at this point.
There. I said it.
But how will I know that for sure if I don’t turn the page? And what, besides my ego, is bruised by my working for it and trying to find out?
So yea, I’ll keep working until I decide I don’t want to at which point I’ll choose another adventure.
It takes what it takes, in the time that it takes.
Until then I’ll keep showing up. Chest up, heart forward.