The dreaded DNS (“Did Not Start”) and DNF (“Did Not Finish”) classifications can feel like stamps on your forehead that read “Loser” in flashy blinky neon.
I don’t much care for this hat.
But that Loser feeling happens mostly when we are in Comparison Mode ( = “Death of Joy” mode) and worried about what the rest of the world thinks. My athletic friends will understand, won’t they? How much do I need to explain this situation? What do I withhold from social media vs. dramatically over-share about my story? Did I make the right decision about this event?
There’s a whole lotta psychology in this game of athletic pursuits and endeavors. No matter whether we’re trying to qualify for Worlds, Nationals, Boston, UTMB, do an FKT… or just trying to accomplish a personal athletic goal that didn’t require a formal race registration.
I had a couple of these DNS/DNF occurrences myself this year. The first was a DNS in June. I had signed up for the Mt. Evans Ascent (actually, the new “up” and “down” route for a total of 29ish miles). This is a road running race that starts at 10,600 feet, goes up to the top of Mt. Evans at 14,264 feet and then back down.
The long story short for this DNS was fear of hypothermia. Our 1:45 drive to the start area was in non-stop rain and it was 38F degrees when we arrived at 4:45am (and still raining). What would it be like to run-slog at this elevation and keep going higher…in these conditions? Did I bring the right clothing and gloves? Would it be snowy and icy at the top? What about footing? Surely they would be cancelling this race any minute, right??
After much hem and haw, I decided to bail. I felt like it was the smart thing to do, but in the next instant, I felt I was the lamest most scaredy-cat human this side of the Mississippi. I questioned my decision and felt like junk. My coach later said “No, you were smart to make that call.” And even so, when I saw that the race wasn’t cancelled and plenty of people still raced, I felt even worse. But it was the decision I had made.
The next ‘episode’ was a DNF of a planned Grand Canyon 2-day hike (Rim2Rim and repeat the next day) with my gal friends in mid-October. Day 1 was spectacular, with perfect weather and amazing hiking from the North Rim to the South Rim. There was rumor of snow for our day 2, but how much could an inch or two of snow possibly mess with our return hike?
Ummm…. turns out it was more like several inches of snow, high winds with gusts over 50mph, and slippery terrain. Our group got started around 5am in the dark, wet, windy cold snow and we said out loud (or rather, cried repeatedly), “We can do this, right??”
After a mile down the South Kaibab trail and several areas where we had to crawl on our hands and knees due to fear of being blown off the ledge of exposed trail sections, we crouched behind a rock to regroup and discuss the options. My fingers were half numb already and my feet were soaking wet. The other 2 gals luckily had rain pants on, but we were all shaken physically and mentally in one way or another. We decided as a group that we would turn around for safety purposes.
So that Day 2 was technically a DNF and led to many questions thereafter. Could we have done it? Should we have waited out the storm a bit longer and tried again? Why didn’t I pack better gloves and rain pants? On and on the back and forth questioning went in my mind even though I was truly glad to know we were safe. Upon learning it was the first snow in October since 1946 the Canyon had seen, I felt a weird sense of comfort… like “Oh good, that helps to justify our decision.”
The end of the Day 1 Rim2Rim hike
Day 2, several hours after deciding to bail on the Rim2Rim return hike. And yes, the Grand Canyon is “out there”.
In all my years of Sport Dietitian-ing, I have often felt and heard the sense of “not enough-ness” from my athletes who DNS’d and DNF’d. And having experienced these feelings recently myself, it stinks and feels yucky.
We shouldn’t have to fret about the judgments and negativity that come from others, nor gauge our self-worth by the number of medals, finishes, and whatever other badges we think are important.
Staying true to ourselves, trusting ourselves and listening to our inner voice, in our guts and in our heart, is where the true grit lies.
And this is where we all become Winners.
-Dina