Kim Doerksen

You Are Strong, You Are Fast

By InnerVoice

September 21^st, 2018

You are Strong, You are Fast

“Ich bin stark; Ich bin schnell.” I wrote these words onto my forearm when I was at the 50k World Championships in Qatar because my Mum wasn’t there to say them to me. I don’t remember when it started, but the night before every race my Scottish mother (who has a love for the German language) will text me “viel glück und viel spaß” – “good luck and have fun”. Understanding how pent up with nerves I get, one day she told me, “Du bist stark; du bist schnell,” which means “You are strong; you are fast.” I take that into every race I’m in. When things get tough, I remind myself of my strength and pray that I actually am fast. It took a long time for me to tap into positive self-talk. I’m still a victim of negative inner voice spirals, but as time goes on, I become more confident in my skin and in my life, and those dark days have become less frequent.

My mum was (and still is) the primary caregiver in our house. She always sent us to school with homemade lunches, made dinner for our family every night, and taught me that it’s okay to show my emotions and feel the vulnerability that goes with it. She came to every practice, game and competition - taking pride in being the loudest cheerleader in the stands - and has always been the best singing partner on any road trip. Her typical Scottish persona is hilarious, emotional, and she is always around for a chat. My dad is my training partner, part-time roommate, coworker (-ish… he’s way more important than I am,) and coach. His work ethic is one I strive for and try to emulate every day. He was the captain of his university soccer team, so naturally he was the reason I wanted to play soccer at the varsity level. We started our running careers together, limping around on torn ACLs; then we started our cycling careers together, trying to one-up each other each ride. My dad is my voice of reason. The stoic man of few words, who definitely looks like an elf.

I have pushed and excelled in school and sports not only for personal satisfaction but ultimately to make my parents proud. Ever since I can remember, they have been my driver for success.

The Spark

Like any journey, discovering my sport didn’t follow a straight and narrow path. I have always identified as an athlete. I have always wanted to be a professional athlete. It was never associated with a specific sport, but I wanted to be able to live and breathe my passion and be paid for it. My childhood took place all over the globe: I was born in Ontario, resided in the US and Zambia before eventually settling on Canada's west coast, all while travelling to the surrounding countries with my parents and older sister. It was us, our family of four, against the world. Sport became the surest way to have a group of friends no matter what city I was living in. Pair that with wanting to do everything at the same level, or better, than my older sister and you’re left with a determined young girl.

I have had three loves in sport: swimming, soccer, and running. The moment I could swim competitively, I dove (pun intended) at the opportunity. I trained with my school team in Zambia, did additional practices, and swam at home. At six years old I was dreaming of swimming for Zambia at the Olympics. Fast forward seven years and my 13-year-old self had traded my swimsuit for a beautiful pair of leather Adidas soccer cleats. Wanting to emulate my dad's soccer success, I changed goals to focus on competing for Canada at the Olympics. At 16, I ruptured the ACL, MCL and meniscal cartilage in my knee and required surgery to reconstruct the ligament damage. By 18, after some sub-par performances post-knee injury, I was convinced to race a local half marathon. It was the spark that lit the flame.

Perspective

Of late, there have been more tough times than easy and flowing times (at least in running). I think the biggest thing I’ve adopted in my life is to practice gratitude when I start to get wrapped up in life’s curveballs. I’m so fortunate to have had the success in sport that I’ve had, to have an amazing family and supportive group of friends, and to have a career that challenges me. When one of those areas goes pear-shaped, I know I can take a step back and understand that this too shall pass. As athletes, we have to train our bodies to withstand a lot, but we also have to train our minds. Through running, I’ve realised my ability to endure. I’ve realised I can withstand discomfort and persevere. I’ve realised that ‘caring too much’ is exactly why I’m successful. I’ve learned that crying isn’t a bad thing, nor does it make you weak. I’ve learned that your support system is more important than anything else.

I have a group of friends and family outside of running that distracts me from the down times. I’m reminded that my ‘bad’ days aren’t actually that bad and that each failure is a learning experience. On days when I’m home, and I come back from a failed training attempt, the one thing that puts things into perspective is the little ball of energy that is my nephew. He doesn’t give a shit about if training or a race went well or not, as long as I say “yes” to him when he inevitably asks “play trucks?” then life is good.

“Honestly, I knew nothing about running except that it was our punishment in soccer. I didn’t know about nutrition, attire (I rocked soccer shorts and cotton t-shirts for a long time), pace, GPS watches, the meticulous act of every number being important… And unlike soccer, there’s no break halfway through where you get to sit on the grass and eat orange slices. That was a big letdown.”

Don't take life for granted

The biggest tragedy I have experienced in my life was when two teammates from my high school died in a car accident. They were a grade above me. I was fortunate to have played basketball alongside them, and to get to know them, their families and their friends. It was a tragedy that shook the entire community. From that summer on, I haven’t forgotten how fickle life can be. I try to never hang up the phone without saying I love you, I work hard to show the people around me how much they mean to me, and I try not to take life’s happenings for granted knowing that in an instant they can be gone. I’m not perfect at these things – there are days that I wish away, or am a miserable person with no zest for life. But I try and make a conscious effort to remember to live with integrity. The girls spread so much love and positivity to everyone around them, and I strive to provide the same to those around me.

It's ok to quit, sometimes

I’ve quit a few sports already, namely swimming, and soccer. With swimming, the act of quitting came from realising it didn’t make me happy anymore. I would come home from training deflated and constantly comparing my lack of talent to everyone else’s superiority in the pool. It wasn’t an uplifting environment, but I was so scared of being seen as a failure. I was 14, and I remember standing there in my bathing suit, crying to my mum about how I felt. She, like the wonderful person she is, said “So quit. Use the time to focus on something else.”

So I did.

My breakup with soccer took a little more time. I wanted to rage quit when I injured my knee. I wanted to put both middle fingers up to the world, and be bitter and miserable forever. Granted, I’m a very dramatic and deeply emotional person who at 16 thought the world was over because I had to have reconstructive surgery. That pissy attitude turned into determination to make the varsity soccer team. I went to walk-on tryouts and made the UFV team as a redshirt. I was THRILLED. That was my ultimate ‘middle fingers to the world’ moment. The only problem was I became tentative in my tackles and lost my aggression for fear of re-injuring my knee. As a defender, tackling and aggression are mandatories, so I took that hesitation and threw my efforts into conditioning practices. I learned to love to run and parted ways with soccer in a more cordial fashion.

“Respecting the process is crucial. Time and time again I’ve gotten greedy and overzealous, and it has come back to bite me in the ass. Understand the toll that training takes on the body; understand the best in the world don’t get there overnight; there is more to a build than a few ridiculous workouts; every easy run, physio exercise and meal matters.”

I still have lofty goals

Running. Oh, what a bitch you have been. I’ve never been in such a turbulent relationship in my life. I have had the highest of highs and the lowest of lows in this sport, but I can’t seem to shake it. There have been many times that I think I should quit. “I’m sold-out; I’m too old; I don’t really like it,” are all bullshit excuses but are ones that often come out my mouth, followed by an ocean of tears. See, the thing is, I wholeheartedly love this sport. That romantic comedy head-over-heels can’t stop thinking about it kind of love. So no matter how many times I want to quit and believe I should, there’s a little voice in my heads that whispers, “not yet.”

At the moment, I don’t have a race on the calendar… yet. I made a promise to give myself a year to figure out a life-balance with working full-time (sometimes more), training, coaching, being in a relationship, and spending time with my loved ones. It is bloody hard to balance all those things, and I don’t do the best job, but it’s a learning curve. I still have lofty goals, and aspirations I won’t be able to shake until I get them: the 6 Marathon Majors; new PBs; new sports. They are the dreams that evoke the feeling of a chest swelling with pride, a smile too big to wipe off, and a sweaty mess sucking wind after crossing a finish line.

Footnotes

Words by Kim Doerksen, Photos by Matt Clark (Stirl andRae Photo) & Kim, Edited by Cody Royle, Published by Travis McKenzie, Copyright NTSQ Sports Group

Follow Kim

FootNotes

Words by Kim Doerksen, Photos by Matt Clark (Stirl andRae Photo) & Kim, Edited by Cody Royle, Published by Travis McKenzie, Copyright NTSQ Sports Group