My First Failure of 2016

I wrote this post a few days after I ran my first 5k of 2016 - and I couldn't finish. I can remember how much pain I was going through and how much of a failure I felt like.

This was my first race of what I promised myself would be 12 races in a year. This picture brings it all right back to me, two days before I go attempt to finish my last of these 12 races.

The Chilly 5K was January 1st, 2016 - this is the picture I've got to show for it. Coincidentally, the Chilly 5K for 2017 is on New Year's Eve, so I chose to do the rematch for my final December race.

I'll have a lot more to say after this race, whether I finish or not, but I want something meaningful to come out of this. In the original post I talked about being 462 pounds. I'm right about there now - I haven't lost anything in the 12 months of doing this.

I chalk that up to knowing that if you only commit yourself to hard work once a month, and you spend the other 4 weeks resting on your laurels and doing nothing to make this not just a race, but a LIFESTYLE change, you will end up in the place that you started. And I literally have done that. In two days, I will be able to say that I've done TWELVE 5K's (one of which was a 4 milers) in TWELVE MONTHS.. yet here I am, at the same weight.

That's bittersweet - it tells me a few things.

One - I haven't done what I should have done. I didn't fully dive in to a new lifestyle. I didn't convince myself that my health was more important to me than my addictive eating behaviors. And my body is paying for that - this is what must change in 2017.

But it also tells me this - I CAN do what I set out to do if it's important enough to me. I have become this strange fixture in the Joplin racing community - forever last place, but people who run in Joplin know me. To them, I'm the inspirational guy who doesn't give up. I'm the one that they all wait at the end of the race to cheer into the finish line.

I'm one of them.

I have so many things hanging over my head right now that I have to resolve in 2017 that I'm afraid to make promises about doing more races, more times, better times, etc. But I know a few things.

1: I love this racing community and the unconditional support they give to an out of shape, last-place making walker who comes to their events.

2: There's something inside of me that is DYING to get out. Each one of these races meant something to me - meeting someone (like I did crossing the finish line with Chris Carlson this summer in Branson), or having others come there to rescue me and just walk with me (like Gabe Allen and others have done for me). There is potential that I have yet to release, and I want to find out what it is. I want to be a runner - not just a guy who does it halfway once a month and barely makes it out alive.

3: I need more focused, self-driven goals for 2017. Maybe it's amping up races and connecting weight loss to it. Maybe it's a full commitment to a workout program, walking program, eating program, whatever. I've got a doc's appointment on January 10th to get many of my personal health issues taken care of - from testosterone levels being WAY too low to other chemicals in my body preventing me from doing what I'm supposed to be doing. My meeting with a specialist on the 10th will tell me a lot of what I should expect moving forward.

So, as I sneak into 2017, I look at this picture. The slow, defeated Rob. The one who couldn't get to the end of the race. The one who failed.

Also, the one who never gave up and has a wall of medals and racing bibs, along with a ton of new friends in the racing community to show for it.

I don't know what 2017 will look like yet - but I know that I will be able to look in the mirror and know that the guy looking back accomplished a goal in 2016 and wants more for himself. Who is with me?

Originally Posted on January 10th, 2016 -

This post is 10 days in the making. I've written this blog post about 40 times in my head over the last 10 days, but I wanted to make it count. I'm not sure how long or short this is going to be, but I know this is going to be important - at least to me. So, here we go.

I have committed to doing a 5k walk/race every month for the year of 2016. I've done about 4-5 of these in the pasts 5 years or so, so I'm pretty confident that I can do this. However, there are risks and some serious flaws in my life and mentality that is going to make this difficult.

First off - I'm up to 462 pounds. I keep gaining weight, and I'm not sure how this is happening. I mean - I eat. And I don't move. So, really shouldn't be surprised. But I don't get it. That number - to me - is just an insurmountable number that means I might as well just lock myself in a closet and wait to die. It's depressing. It's overwhelming. And frankly, if it wasn't for my commitment to my children and my wife, I would have given up, gone towards disability and a life of self pity.

But, I can't do that. I don't have very much pride and self confidence left, if I'm being VERY honest with myself. But if there's one thing that holds me together is that while I know the rest of the world views me as this giant - and I mean GIANT loser who has failed at as many jobs as he can count on his two hands in the past 10 years, and an in the meantime has gone from a super healthy 266 pounds to adding 200 pounds to my frame in the time that my wife has married me. I mean, that's not fair to her. She didn't sign up for that. She didn't think that just 7 years after she married a healthy, confident, strong man to help raise her children, she would be having to accommodate for my shortcomings as a man, and as a husband.

That may sound harsh - and even as I type this I cringe, but I have to face the truth. A friend of mine - more of a mentor, told me a while ago that the only thing that is going to get me to move forward and truly face my fate is when the hurt is too much to NOT do something about it.

So, enough of the wallowing for a moment. Onto my first race - this January 1st - the Chilly 5k Run in Joplin.

I signed up a few days before the race. I hadn't trained or prepared in any way, but I've done this before. No training, no preparation, and I've about killed myself, but I've always finished the race. It was usually stimulate a bit of pride that I could carry forward. I mean, this was the first of many races of the year, right? Piece of cake.

Then something happened.

The race starts, and I head up the first hill. This wasn't a mountain, but it certainly wasn't a airplane landing strip. The first .8 mile was one steady uphill climb. So, up I go. About 2/3 the way through it, I'm about dead. I'm not running or even pretending to jog. I'm fighting through the INSANE back pain that I faced when my sciatic nerve decided to explode on me. Nevermind that, all I can think of is two things - I have to finish this race so my wife and 5 kids (all of which are somewhere here on the race course cheering me one) can see me do this, and I had to get to the top of the big hill where the water stop was. Not that I needed water - my breathing and legs were fine - but that is where my Red Sea family was, and I knew that if I could get to them, they could cheer me all the way back down and to the finish.

The next half mile I was literally holding onto each car that I passed, hunched over and trying to stretch my back out. Ever single car. There's probably still some guy on St. John's street badmouthing "that guy who put his fat hands all over my truck".

So, I'm walking. Barely. Easily minutes behind the second to last person, with the pace car about 10 feet on my heels, watching my pain. I finally pass my wife and kids - they see the pain on my face, but they cheer me on like the awesome family that they are. That was about 1.1 miles into my 3 miles.

Another hill - and about 5 blocks in front of me is the water station - my Red Sea family. I make it another block ... just 4 blocks left, and that's when I about fell to my knees in tears. I couldn't stand it anymore. I've never been in so much pain with my back, and that's when I waved it off. I had to tell the guy pacing me that I was done, and I needed a ride back.

The guys in the car were super supportive. We continued - I couldn't have been more embarrassed than when I was sitting in the passenger seat, my Red Sea visor hiding my face, slowly driving past the water stop where my Red Sea family was there, seeing me in the car, a total failure.

Long story made short, that made the end of my day. That was my first DNF (Did Not Finish), and as I got out of the pace car one block before the finish line to say that I made it through, there was no pride. Only the biggest feeling of failure I've ever had in my life.

And it wasn't JUST because I didn't finish. I mean - that was a huge part of it. But, I had just let my wife and my five year old down. The teenagers get it. I'm fat and out of shape. I don't have to convince them otherwise. But .. it killed me. Absolutely put me into tears - to see my five year old concerned about me. This five year old boy sees me as a super hero. He's the one that sees no wrong in me. And I showed him what defeat looks like.

And if you've actually read this far - I know what you're thinking. "At least you got out there when so many people don't even try". "You did your best, and you can only get better from here!". I've heard it all the past week, and the truth is, I love every single one of you for saying it.

But when I look in the mirror, I know what happened.

But there's a shining light at the end of this pity parade.

I didn't commit to one race. I committed to 12. And that means, unless I feel like being a total failure for the next 12 months, I have some work to do.

I never thought just 'finishing' a 5k was something I had to work for. It was something I just 'did'. I took finishing for granted, and I can promise you that I will never... EVER do that again. And I am going to prepare for this. I've only got about 5 weeks until my next race - the Polar Run in Neosho on February 27th. I haven't registered yet (pay checks are a funny thing), but that's my target. And I will prepare. And I will finish. And I will understand what a HUGE deal this is.

So, I failed in January. My story right now isn't a great one. I'm pretty embarrassed and demoralized about it. There's no one to blame for my situation but myself.

But the cool part?

Imagine how sweet the comeback is going to be.