After the Glory Days: Embracing New Beginnings

I crossed the finish line of my final collegiate race just two days before I crossed the stage for graduation. On top of training, writing an honors thesis, working jobs on campus, and finishing my coursework to graduate, I barely had the time to think about what was next for me professionally, let alone athletically. Like many college graduates, I stumbled into the next phase of adulthood without a plan.

I was vaguely interested in continuing to train and compete after college but knew I needed a break after four years of intense training. My body made that clear enough: I got sick in the days leading up to my senior conference meet and never really recovered. After the adrenaline of nationals and graduation faded, my body knew it finally had the chance to recover, and I immediately got sick again. I spent the month of June resting, exercising only on walks or bike rides with family and friends.

In July, I waited for the usual itch I’d get at the start of each track season—the excitement to build my training layer by layer as I angled myself towards a new goal. It never came. Instead, I found myself with an unfamiliar pit of anxiety when I approached the track. I had a new running companion, a glowing version of my college self that could run circles around the times I was hitting, no matter how hard I tried.

My confidence as a runner had come from my commitment to the practice. I had built my schedule and habits around the routines that allowed me to excel on the track, from getting ample sleep to regular rolling and stretching to intentional fueling. Of course, I couldn’t hit my old collegiate marks: I simply did not have the time or energy as a working professional to have even a quarter of the dedication of my collegiate self, let alone the structure and resources that collegiate athletics provided.

I left sprinting behind and began running socially with coworkers. While this allowed me to develop a new and healthier relationship with running, I quickly overtrained without a concrete plan or the watchful eyes of a coach. I added mileage and subtracted cooldowns, injury prevention exercises, and attention toward recovery. Within a year, I developed an overuse injury in my left knee that continues to elude full recovery.

Today, I enjoy a mix of biking, swimming, weightlifting, yoga, and walks. I move when it feels good, not because I feel like I have to, and I approach exercise as an opportunity for me to explore my body and be present. My priorities have shifted since college, and being in the best shape of my life is no longer realistic or exciting to me.

It was a long road to make peace with this, though. People are used to making innocuous comments about how athletes look, and even the well-intentioned ones were often harmful as I adjusted to how my body changed after college.

I also had to reframe the way I approached working out. Until recently, I knew only one way of training: 100%, all the time. I had to learn to scale back and listen to my body to prevent further injuries.

Over the next few weeks, D3 Glory Days will release the first of its “After the Glory Days” series where we talk with former D3 athletes about their athletic and social transition after college. According to a study by the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, three-quarters of former collegiate athletes report difficulty retiring from a competitive sport. It’s not only the loss of a beloved sport, but a loss of identity, structure, and community. While there are often training groups in most major metropolitan areas for distance runners, sprints and field athletes often have a more difficult time finding a home for training after college. By sharing the stories of D3 athletes who have gone through that transition, we hope to highlight new possibilities and strategies for others struggling with the change.

I no longer compare myself to the athlete I was in college. I recognize now that there are many things I can do now that my collegiate self never could—stop and smell the flowers mid-workout, go on ambitious hikes without fear of turning an ankle and ruining my entire season, and explore other hobbies and interests outside of track and field. All endings are also beginnings—and I’m excited to share the stories of other D3 athletes and their new journeys in the coming weeks.