How to Deal Gracefully* With a DNF
*You in no way have to deal gracefully with a DNF
By 4 am, I’d made the decision: day 2 wasn’t happening. I could barely walk from my tent to the toilet block, let alone pull off a 30-miler.
I mean, I’m all for winging it but having already covered 30 miles that day, there was no way on this revolving orb that I was going to get away with a repeat performance two hours from now.
Relieved, I fell into blissful sleep on my feather pillow and exquisitely soft mattress.
Ha, fooled you. I rolled onto my less painful side, on the optimistically-titled ‘inflatable roll mat’ and wished I’d remembered: a pillow, towel, toothbrush, and several friends to hit up the 24-hour bar with.
My first DNF
Let The Sulking Begin
And although I’d walked through 12-hours of rolling hills, a-mazing food-laden pitstops, and the worst downhills I’d ever contended with, I felt disappointed. Worse, that I’d let people down. When you’re fundraising, it’s tough mentally to weigh up your needs against the needs of those you’re supporting. Even though sometimes it’s the right call.
I figured after a couple of days I’d get over it. The recurring feelings of disappointment, even embarrassment would dissipate, and I’d start planning how I was going to walk/run the remainder of the distance (2X15 milers) in my own time to complete the mission.
But I didn’t.
If anything, I got even more cross with myself. If you read my previous article on Peak End Theory, you’ll have some idea why, but much of it boiled down to feeling like my body (and footwear choice) had really let me down.
It turns out, I’m not invincible and I’m finding that particularly hard to come to terms with.
Attention Seeking
And this honestly isn’t an RU OK HUN post. I couldn’t have done it, it’s as black and white as that. But that doesn’t make the disappointment any less of a thing to deal with.
So my advice to you is, feel it. The one condition though is this: you can’t stay here. Feel the feels, do some angry hobbling around your bedroom shouting at your shoes, have a beverage of your choice and wallow for an evening and then it’s done.
Graceful? Screw that, but malingering? Not helpful.
New Feet Wish List
Pretty much every runner I know has had a DNF at some point and injury is most often the culprit. You never go into a race expecting to drop out. You never sign up to do 100kms, imagining you’ll be lying in a tent wishing for new feet.
It just happens and let’s be honest, even if you’re aging as fabulously as I am, along with the (almost invisible) wrinkles comes the increased risk of injury, especially when you’re really pushing your body.
Will it stop me from doing hard things? I’ll never stop, but I will think way more carefully about what I’m actually capable of versus what my overactive imagination believes I can do.
If you’re competitive, throw caution to the wind, and are full of derring-do, at some point you’re going to crash. Learn from it, figure out what you’ll do differently next time, and enter the next challenge — rinse and repeat.
See you at the start line.
Do you have a DNF story? I’d love to hear it, drop it in the comments.
