“When
I had to stop running, it was like a breakup.”
Jill J.
I don’t know
about you, but I suck at breakups. Good
thing I’ve been married for 18 years and am as in love with my partner as
ever. But back in the day, I managed to
shred every bit of respect and possible friendship with ex-boyfriends. My friend Lesley is on good terms with all of
her exes, inviting them over for parties where they even mingle with one
another. Me, not so much.
Here’s my
pattern: decide it’s over, but am not
sure how to break it to the person. Behave
incredibly badly so he breaks up with me instead. Feel terrible and make him feel terrible too.
I broke up with
T the summer between 10th and 11th grade. I dated one of
his friends who had a Camaro (okay, it was the 80’s), and then felt sorry for T
and got back together with him. Whereupon
he borrowed 50 bucks from me and left town with no further word. I stalked as best I could, but to no
avail. So I ended up eating loaves of
Roman Meal bread the entire summer, gained 10 lbs., and experienced a plummet
in grades and self-esteem that I haven’t seen before or since.
Then there was
B. Handsome motorcycle rider,
independent at 20 years old, living on his own with a pit bull (don’t judge; Veda
was sweet). I abandoned my first semester
at IU to move in with B (now you can judge).
After a year, I moved all my stuff back to my parents’ house without
telling B. I’ll never forget the devastation
on his face when he came home and saw that I moved out. I honestly thought it would be easier that
way, but needless to say, abruptly ending a year-long relationship without any
advance notice did not exactly inspire a drama-free scene.
And finally,
there was G. You’d think I would have learned something with the previous two
experiences, but no. I knew this
relationship was limited, but it was fun and kept me from being lonely. Then I met Nels (whom I later married and
still am to this day), and I tried really hard to extricate myself from G. G didn’t make it easy, though. I broke up with him, then felt sorry for him,
got back together, and then broke up again over the phone. He left multiple nasty messages on my answering
machine. Nels heard them and said, “I would never say that to you.” And he hasn’t. Ever.
It’s clear that
breaking up in a caring, thoughtful way, where all parties agree that it was
the best thing, is simply not in my repertoire.
I haven’t seen or talked to T, B, or G since, and it’s probably clear
why. But as I consider my newest
breakup, with marathoning, I hope this time is different, and we can still be
friends. I still intend to run, but I’m aware
that the romance with long distance is gone.
Marathoning and
I talked it over, and it’s clear we are on the same page. I no longer have the same devotion and
commitment to it. It doesn’t want a
half-assed effort on my part. We even
decided to part friends. I will visit as
my partner continues to run long distances with his eye on the coveted BQ
(Boston Qualifier), and I will continue to run, albeit without a watch and
without regard to weekly mileage.
However,
marathoning and I agreed to maintain our relationship until last weekend. Just as warring couples stay together for an
important event, like prom, a friend’s wedding, or a visit with the in-laws,
marathoning and I had a long-standing date in Washington D.C. for the Marine
Corps Marathon. For the third and last
time, we braved the mileage, soreness, and salt-encrusted skin together.
In my
innocence, I thought we had parted friends.
As befitting a split between real lovers, and my previous relationships,
this last event was long, painful, and full of doubt and hurt. Despite the inspiring location, prodigious
crowds, and reasonable training, I was miserable much of the time, trying to
find excuses to quit. Adding injury to insult, I just found out I
have a stress fracture in my left foot.
I guess I still have much to learn about breaking up gracefully.
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