Justine Fedronic

I Run Because it Frees Me

By InnerVoice

June 9^th, 2017

the joy

I was not immediately in love with running. I learned to love it more as I learned to respect it and the challenges it presented, as I learned to find the simplicity in it and the joy, and as I became more immersed in the incredible tribes within the track community. We have some immensely powerful, resilient, adaptable personalities and I love being around them. I love loping through beautiful landscapes and around colourful ovals with extraordinary people and their extraordinary stories. I’ve been a part of multiple running tribes, and I love the feeling of many hearts beating together. I think it’s the closest we have to feel like a functional piece of a powerful hunting pack.

I’ve had my fair share of waning enthusiasm, usually synced with the emergence of yet another injury. Track has broken my heart and maximised my patience countless times. But I am fully addicted and each injury has actually only served to solidify that commitment. I know if I can just train smart enough, hard enough and consistently enough, I can truly explore the maximums of what this body and mind can do and truly call myself an elite track athlete. We never really quite reach that maximum of ourselves and that’s what makes this chase so elusive and exciting. Sometimes I do wonder why I am so committed to running fast in a straight line when there are so many other incredible forms of movement out there. But there is something so reverential about the simplicity of just running - it’s such a basic human movement and that’s what makes it so powerful, and so connected to the essence of humanity and the generations of people who ran before us, for whatever purpose.

The air rushing past you

One thing I’ve learned is there is rarely such a thing as "deserve". There are many, many athletes with loads of talent, discipline, and commitment. There is also bad luck, good luck, injury despite diligence, unexpected willpower, timing and circumstance, and endless other variables that determine who gets to the line first on any given day. That is part of what makes this sport so magical and addicting - any elite runner chases challenges and is addicted to the magical moments when it all comes together. There is absolutely nothing like feeling the air rushing past you as your body simultaneously strains and floats, or of finding those extra shreds of willpower to manipulate your body past another's when it didn't seem possible. It’s crazy what a human body can do if you just ask it to.

My inner voice often starts by wondering why the heck I do this sport? Why do we willingly walk into battle, knowing full well you are about to immerse yourself in lactic acid, searing lungs, and probable post-race nausea and immobility? It really makes you question your life choices. But those are the silly doubts that everyone has. I do my best to boost myself with confidence, to remind myself of the opportunity and find the smiles, and to appreciate that I get to run around an oval for a living. I remember the time and energy that my tribe has volunteered to my journey, and to remind myself of the joy of competition. And mostly, I flood my brain with the message that I’m a great huntress and this is what I was made for and prepared for.

“I remember wanting to be a storm chaser, a National Geographic photographer, a park ranger, an inventor, a fashion designer. My list was pretty dynamic. I always enjoyed being outside in nature and in a way I’ve found a way to do just that.”

i am a warrior princess

I’ve developed a set of mantras for myself while I’m going through tough times on-track. During long efforts (which are the toughest for me mentally and rapidly go south if I let them) I often repeat them to myself. They are:

Calm, Cool, and Collected: this is how I imagine endurance hunters would be. There is such a thing as a powerfully pumping heart and simultaneous serenity and control.

BEAST: Believe, Endure, Adapt, Strive, Thrive. This is my most elemental mantra. I aspire to master all of these things - it will always be a work in progress but as long as I am working on it I am bettering myself both as an athlete and hopefully as a functional person.

“I breathe my courage, I exhale my fear” - Jonathan Lockwood Huie; one of my favourite poems, if I get scared or nervous before races or hard workouts I like to repeat this to myself.

Mostly I try to remind myself that I am a warrior princess. I’m here to compete at my maximum of that day with grace and vulnerability, with gratitude for my tribe, and with power and confidence.

patience and hope

I’ve always had a tougher time with emotional control off the track. The track ego/persona I’ve built for myself is strong and in control, and being in motion helps me tap into that. When things don’t go quite as planned in normal life, I try to channel the characteristics of my imaginary track persona. This is something I’m constantly working on. I’ve had some pretty down and dark times, some of which have lasted many months, and I usually just tell myself that all I can do is try my hardest to dig myself out of holes. I do think it’s important to allow yourself to fully wallow for an allotted amount of time before you throw your hair up and formulate an action plan. I’ve found that when I do allow myself this, the future seems more manageable. Much like most ultra-competitive people, I can be extraordinarily hard on myself and have really struggled with self-confidence. In these times I can be oversensitive and over-analyze others’ words and actions, and feel isolated and misunderstood. Sometimes it can take a ruthless amount of forced positive energy to change perspectives, but it really is always about perspective. Some form of a smile can be found in any situation, even if it’s seemingly trivial or a bit of a stretch. And a little smile will eventually, with some patience and hope, lead to laughs and good times.

my biggest gratitude

I’ve been really fortunate to not have any major tragedies - I’ve had plenty of challenges, especially when it comes to my health and relationships, but none of them are what I would call major tragedies. I’ve been told several times that I would probably never be able to run at an elite level ever again, but in the scheme of things (and with the perspective of time) these are kind of petty compared to other people’s survival challenges.

My saga of injuries has been the most testing to my resolve - my ability to manage my own happiness, and my ability to adapt to new realities. Prior to this past year, my record streak of healthy and consistent training was only a few months. It sometimes seems that whenever I have allowed myself to really expand my dreams, my body decides that it needs to force a little (or a long) break. Everybody has a different path to fulfilling their goals and dreams and I’ve just had to learn to always, always believe I will get there, but that it just might look unexpectedly different. It has often seemed like I can’t catch a break; that it doesn’t matter how diligently I commit to my rehab/prehab program and the elite track athlete lifestyle.

It can be easy to interpret a constant barrage of obstacles - over the years and spans of a whole career - as signs that maybe it’s just not meant to be and to fall victim to learned helplessness. It can be easy to become jealous of those who rarely wake up wondering if they will be able to train that day. I’ve had to commit to the journey of becoming my most adaptable, most mercilessly resilient version of myself, to learn my body and the way it communicates, and to accept plot twists and learn to work with them. When I tore my hamstring at the upper attachment in 2014, my first year as a pro, I ended up missing an entire year of competition and training. I spent months chasing solutions and had many weeks of hopelessness. I’ve had to go through that process many times - 9 stress injuries, multiple episodes of bursitis, tendinopathies, muscle strains, sprains and tears. I’ve had to learn to shove that hopelessness away and be assertive about my health, to flood my mind with hope and positivity and to really believe that while my journey may seem suboptimal, it is unique for a reason. I’ve had to take ownership of my journey and my decision making, to really fight for my time to train and race. If anything it has made my health, when I have it, my biggest source of gratitude. And when I don’t have it, it just reignites my soul fire and inspires some crucial self-examination.

“I think everyone has more resilience and adaptability than they think they do - every time I’ve thought that I can’t possible keep committing myself to this, I’ve found a way to invest one more day at a time until a beautiful bloom of happiness and accomplishment reveals itself.”

inspiration is abundant

I’m always looking for new inspiration - finding the right perspective on life events is a constant work in progress - and we live in a crazy, dynamic world full of variety, resilience, and creativity! People excel at an insane variety of things and human maximums fascinate me - it’s pretty inspiring what we can do physically, mentally, and emotionally. I love following yogis, dancers, and gymnasts on social media; I think it’s so incredible how much strength and flexibility a human body can have (and it gives me hope that I can improve my mobility one day ha!) In the past couple of years I’ve started to read poetry whenever I need a refreshed perspective. I really love Nayyirah Waheed, Rupi Kaur, and Yrsa Daley-Ward. Their words have spoken to my heart when my heart needed the jumpstart. I try to expose myself to art, writing, music; I love how people choose to channel their creativity, experiences, and energy. I’m also really lucky that I get to live in the Pacific Northwest - it’s impossible not to be inspired by the lakes and forests and dynamic ecosystems around us, and how busy, hardworking urban people choose to interact with our wilderness. Being a middle-distance runner means I get to run on trails occasionally and immerse myself in something completely different than the streets and cafes of Seattle.

i run

I run because it frees me. Because it inspires me to be grateful for my health and my life. I run to prove to myself and others that I am courageous, that I have infinite persistence, resilience, and adaptability. I want to prove to people that a person is a Phoenix, rising every time from the ashes. I run because it allows me to be part of a true tribe. I run because it enables me to be truly in touch with our basic human instincts: to be a predator, to be the prey, to breath, to move with purpose, and to be immersed in our natural world.