Before the holidays, I listened to the CBC podcast, “Now or Never,” which told stories of folks who had failed in some way and how they recovered from their setbacks. Natasha Wodak, who currently holds the Canadian women’s marathon record, told the story of trying to qualify for the Olympic team at four different races leading up to the 2024 Paris games. Of her failure, she says, “It sucks. It really sucks….It doesn’t make any sense.” She goes on to describe the mental gymnastics she’s been performing ever since as she navigates her future as a runner.
2025 did not provide Wodak with any easy answers. In a Facebook post, she describes not feeling quite right in the months leading up to the World Championships, where she placed 31st. Her uncertainty about what the future might hold, and her willingness to entertain various possibilities, reminds me to approach 2026 with an open mind. 2025 was a disappointing year for me, as a runner. I was injured when I ran the Boston Marathon. A summer of easy running was restorative, but as soon as I increased my volume in the fall an old injury flared up again, wrecking my early new year’s race plans. I’m frustrated that extra effort, with physio and strength training, has not delivered results, and I’m fretting about wasted entry fees.
I have been telling myself that I don’t want to end my marathon journey on a low note. But why not? Had I recovered from my injury in time to run a strong Boston, would I have quit while I was ahead? Unlikely. Now I’m working toward letting go of the marathon so that I can move on: to swim more, work on my strength training, and learn to enjoy shorter runs. It’s hard because the flow of a long run is a joy I will surely miss, if I can’t get back to longer distances. But my sixties will surely encompass new joys and discoveries, just as my fifties did, if I keep the door open for them.
I can hear the disappointment. Sending a big hug. It resonates even though I have never been anywhere near the runner you are! I’ve also had to adjust my expectations after an injury in the 2019 Around the Bay 30K, from which I never regained my past running self (such as it was). It’s disappointing (and to me feels like I’ve made a big concession to aging) to have had to reduce distance limits and rethink my goals. But you have had such an impressive running career since you took it up again and I bet it will continue, whether in marathons or shorter distances.
Sending a big hug, too. Adjusting and readjusting to limitations is so (expletive) hard. I feel like I’m in constant recalibration mode. I try to tell myself that mindset is everything. And it is. Which is so much easier to say than to actually feel!