F.E.A.R

You know, when you've been intentionally avoiding something, you start making excuses and let everything get in the way - And then the little voice just seems to fade. Still, it lingers around like a ghost (boo), just poking at you and poking at you (super annoying) until you finally give it the attention it deserves?

Yep. That's how I've felt about blogging all year.

My intention for this year was to post every month; I even put it on my vision board: "Become a better storyteller." I wanted to be a resource, your cowbell, and continue to tell my story. I, however, did the opposite; I left you on a cliffhanger.

I've had a post sitting in my drafts since February that I never finished, and I hate that. I hate that I left things unfinished; I became a ghost.

With a few weeks left in 2024 and a clearer head on my shoulders, I want to provide you with an update. This is the type of update that will not fit in a social media caption. Plus, who reads those long "continue in comments" posts anyway? Very (very) few of us.

So, if you have been here before, "Welcome back." if you are joining me for the first time, "Welcome; I am Mel, coach and owner of La Direccón."

If you are looking for a race recap, I don't do them because it's cheap and overplayed. But I will provide you with an account of my adventure.

Get comfy, put that phone on "Do Not Disturb," and be here with me.

Feeling indifferent:

Moab last year was the nail in the coffin. I felt unfulfilled and numb, and my activities after that lacked meaning. The words "I am proud" felt like nails on a chalkboard. I felt dishonest, and that lie made me feel so uncomfortable. Truthfully, I did not feel proud or excited. I was not disco balls and rainbows; it was a mixed bag of feelings, and the only consistent feeling was sadness.

I kept what I was feeling to myself, afraid others might see me as ungrateful or judge me for feeling this way. Instead, I blamed it on 'Post-Race Blues' and hoped with time, I’d “get over it.”

So, getting over it meant moving forward, and I did that by moving forward with my prior commitments - running one of the most challenging 100-milers in the U.S. (Cruel Jewel) with my buddy. This was one of those "If you sign up, I will" kinda deals.

I thought shifting my attention to the next 'BIG thing' would bring me clarity, but it left me spiraling. I continued to ignore all the signs screaming, 'Take care of ME.' Looking back, it was foolish.

The depth and intensity of these feelings grew into anger, anger into rage, and rage into sadness. Mediating didn't help; journaling felt like a job, and practicing gratitude felt so fucking fake.

For months, I felt trapped in a dark cloud, trying to find an answer to What the F is wrong with me?

I drove myself crazy with "I shoulds."

I should be happy. I should be excited. I should feel confident. I should feel like a total badass...I should feel something other than sadness.

After multiple failed attempts to self-diagnose, you know, asking "Dr. Google" (I know I'm not the only one who's done this). I stopped blaming it on "Post-race blues."

I admitted and accepted that what I was experiencing was bigger than me (and Dr. Google), and that realization was pivotal. For the first time, I allowed myself to stop pretending and stop walking around in a skin suite. I could not handle this alone and took the first step toward truly addressing what I was going through.

In late April, I began therapy. "My lady" (the nickname I've given my therapist) validated that nothing was wrong with me. What I'm experiencing is not post-race blues but depression.

Hearing that word felt curing, but disappointment followed. I wondered how I had ended up here, as if it were a place of arrival—an island of misfit toys.

In those first few sessions, we uncovered that my depression didn’t appear out of nowhere—it had been quietly building for years, fueled by accumulated stress, shame, fears, and unresolved traumas. The truth is, I hadn’t been taking care of myself or addressing what I needed to heal. Instead, I kept avoiding it all, piling skeletons into my closet until there was no more room and everything came crashing down.

I escaped ALL this by signing up for endurance events, using these experiences to bandage all my traumas, anxieties, and fears. My prescription: Run 100 miles, let shit hit the fan, relive emotional trauma, push through that trauma, bounce back, and in 29 hours(ish), "I'm healed."

I tried to take shortcuts to heal, and that's not how healing works. It just festers like mold.

Despite all of this, I still went through with the race. I guilted and shamed myself into leaving my house to train. I stuck to the training schedule even when my heart wasn't in it.

I promised myself that after Cruel Jewel, I would spend the rest of the year taking the necessary steps to properly heal. No races. No training schedule. No more distractions. I would only focus on healing.

The Race:

As mentioned, I moved forward with the race. Why? Because I am an Aries, I'm stubborn, and my ascendant sign is Cancer. This means I am fiercely loyal and committed (especially to my friends). Without going into too much detail (this post is just an update, not a race report). My body fell apart - the humidity, GI distress, wicked heartburn, and my autophony.

I've never wanted to quit something so bad. I plotted in my head (the hallucinations added to this) how I would tell my crew, "I'm done." The fabricated stories I came up with were really Hollywood. I really tried to sell it to myself. However, with every crew stop came kindness, support, and cowbell. Kimmie, John, and my cowgirl Cody - meant everything to me, and I couldn't deceive them or myself; that is just not who I am.

Again, I'm fiercely committed. And I'm a terrible liar.

In my delusion state, they made the executive decisions to step in and pace. They did everything in their power to help me succeed.

I also met a fellow runner named Mikey; although we were total strangers, he was kind enough to encourage me - to keep me moving, especially as I was plotting to quit. Our interaction came at the proper moment.

And as they say in the ultra world, once you trauma bond, you are bonded for life.

With all the help I received in this tornado, a little voice still reminded me, "All you have to do is try. One foot in front of the other." With this powerful revelation, I fought (and fought) the biggest demon of all - myself. I went to war for 43:37:09.

F.E.A.R:

After Cruel Jewel, I kept my promise to myself, and I've been here quietly, doing the work.When I started therapy, I pressed pause on friendships (and making new ones); I didn't have it in me to take the little strength I had to work on myself to give to others. I didn't have it in me to be social or creative. I wasn't ready to open myself up. I only possessed enough energy to be vulnerable with one person - my lady. Each session in the beginning left me exhausted, as I battled monkey chatter, opened up about my relationships, my traumas, and stresses. I finally was going toe to toe with my pain, I was ready and willing to face everything.

If I had to describe this year with one word, it would be FEAR:

FACE

EVERYTHING

AND

RECOVER

I’ve been recovering with love, empathy, and forgiveness. That dark cloud is no longer hanging over me, and the phrase "I am proud" doesn't make me feel icky inside.

As this year comes to a close and I reflect on all that has happened, I’m focusing on healing while looking ahead to the future. With a clearer sense of purpose, I’m planning for new goals and growth in 2025. And if you’re wondering whether I have big plans for the new year—you bet your ass I do! On January 6, 2025, I’ll be starting grad school.

Yes, I'll still be coaching (I love it) and my roster is open.

Yes, I plan on racing.

Yes, I'll be ringing my cowbell for you.

If you made it this far, thank you. Thank you for being here and sharing this journey with me. May 2025 be a year of BIG goals, growth, and adventure.

As always,

I am ringing my cowbell for you! Happy Trails!

Have a Happy New Year!

~Coach Mel

Quote of the Week: "Your new life is going to cost you your old one.

It's going to cost you your comfort zone and your sense

of direction.

It's going to cost you relationships and friends.

It's going to cost you being liked and understood.

It doesn't matter.

The people who are meant for you are going to meet you

on the other side. You're going to build a new comfort

zone around the things that actually move you forward.

Instead of being liked, you're going to be loved. Instead of

being understood, you're going to be seen.

All you're going to lose is what was built for a person you

no longer are."

― Brianna Wiest, The Mountain Is You: Transforming Self-Sabotage Into Self-Mastery

Song of the Week: Unconditional I (Lookout Kid), Arcade Fire