I deleted my Strava account yesterday.  All the data….poof.

I don’t regret my 18-month dalliance with Strava.  Knowledge is useful.  It corrected a grave misconception that I was a rock star when it came to training.  I went into races cocky, despite being woefully under-prepared.

But even if Strava was good at pointing out the inadequacies of my training, it did very little to point me on a better path.  This is the general pattern of how Strava has gone for me for the couple times a year when I decided that I’d like to train for something:

6 weeks prior to ‘A’ race: Ah!  Crap!  I’m not trained at all.  Look at what everyone else is doing.  I need to get my ass in gear pronto.

4 weeks prior to ‘A’ race: Okay, so I’ve tossed in a couple long runs.  Feeling good about this.  Wait, crap, I still haven’t done enough?  Come on, Strava!  Seriously, I need to do another long run??

3 weeks prior to ‘A’ race:  Um, it hurts to walk.

1 week prior to ‘A’ race:  Soooo….I guess I should get this checked out?

3 days prior to ‘A’ race: Why does it always seem like training just = never getting to actually toe a line?  When’s the last time I actually got to run my ‘A’ race?

day of ‘A’ race: Well, at least the kitty likes it when I’m a cripple.  More weekends sitting around watching tv = more pets.  But not getting to run the race you’ve been training for is kind of like failing to orgasm.  There’s all this build-up of energy and tension and then no release.  You can try lifting weights.  But nothing is going to substitute for that loopy relaxed feeling at the finish line of having entirely drained yourself.  Feeling like a loaded spring all day is way worse than just having a cruddy race.  

I realized I’d hit a crossroads with two stark choices:

(a) Step up my game, hire a coach who can direct me in how to step up my training in ways that result in something other than more couch time with the kitty;

(b) Shut it all down.  See if I can relocate that lovely state of ignorance when I fancied myself a rock star runner for frittering around in the woods for half an hour and finding a bunch of birds.

Do I even have to tell you which way the wagon went?