Endings are Bittersweet
I had three possible ways I was going to start this blog post, all pinging around my head at 4:26 AM on a Monday morning. But when I opened my “NEWSLETTER IDEAS/DRAFTS” doc a title of a past newsletter from 2021 jumped out at me: “That’s Enough. There’s More.”
I clicked on the title–maybe my past self had some wisdom to offer. It did.
Sometimes the most gracious thing we can do for ourselves is to say “that’s enough” and sometimes it is to say “there’s more.”
There are times when we are trying very hard, we’re giving it our best shot, we're persisting and nothing seems to be working. Not a budge, not an eek, not an iota of movement. And in those moments, when we are very tired and weary, the kindest, most gracious thing--a true act of self-care--is to say to ourselves, “That’s enough. Rest now.”
And then there are times when we think we are giving it our all, when it feels incredibly effortful, and we are in fact tired and it seems as if to keep going is impossible. And yet, we may not have reached the edge of ourselves, we may have only reached a perceived edge, one that is influenced by all the negative narratives of fear and self-doubt. And in those moments, when we are very tired and weary, the kindest, most gracious thing--a true act of self-care--is to say to ourselves, “There’s more. I believe it.”
The trick is, knowing yourself well enough to know how to tell the difference. And really, the only way to do that is to keep going to that perceived edge and sometimes we will get it right and we’ll pull back and allow ourselves to rest or we’ll push through and achieve something that seemed impossible. And sometimes we’ll get to that edge and we’ll get it wrong, we’ll pull back before we should and never reach that thing we thought we had a shot at or we’ll push through when really our bodies and our minds and our souls needed rest.
What my past self missed, however is a third option: that you get to that perceived edge, you go all in, you push even harder despite the fact that you are tired, despite the fact that your body is displaying signs of stress that are signals to stop. You push, and try and things still don’t budge. There is no breakthrough. Just a broken you.
And that’s where I am right now.
In June of 2022, I was at my perceived edge with Rise Run Retreat. I was very tired from sustaining not just the business through the pandemic, but also my family. At the time, I was faced with a decision to start bringing things to an end or to give one last best effort. I decided to go all in.
I invested in a brand re-fresh. I added more retreats to accommodate the demand I saw in our waitlists. I started working with two business mentors to help write a five-year growth plan that would help grow the company and sustain my family. On paper, it looked great. I felt excited.
And so for the past ten months, I’ve been grinding behind the scenes to make Rise Run Retreat’s growth plan a reality.
The problem with being persistent and gritty is that you often don’t know when to stop. This has happened on more than one occasion in my life. I’ve been so focused on hard-working my way through resistance, with such a narrow vision, that I’ve missed the fact that the people around me and my own physical body are paying the price.
Mark and I took a breath last month and went away for a night for his birthday. It was in that brief pause that he said to me, “Sarah, I feel like I need to tell you this: you can stop. You need to stop.”
I burst into tears.
I don’t need his permission, but sometimes the people who love you can see things in a way that you cannot. I knew that he was right, because my tears were tears of relief.
So it is with mixed emotions (some sadness, but honestly, mostly relief) that I am announcing this is Rise Run Retreat’s last year.
To end this year as well as possible, I am pairing down the original schedule to just two remaining retreats: The Spring Retreat May 19-21, in Woodstock, Vermont and The Fall Retreat September 21-24 in Kennebunkport, Maine, plus the Trail Running Clinic on June 3rd.
I don’t have a neat and tidy segway into the next thing. No big announcement about something awesome that I’m doing next. Which is what my ego wants. Sometimes deciding to quit something feels like a failure when you aren’t leaping to the next thing or if you don’t have some grand reason to step away.
My reason: it feels right.
And so I’m at the end of an eight-year endeavor, not really knowing what’s next, not really knowing if this is a pause or an end-end. What I do know is my goal for right now: to end well, to make the remaining events this year a celebration of all Rise Run Retreat has been and done over the past eight years.
My hope is that you will join me in celebrating.
SPRING RETREAT
I am extending the Spring Retreat registration to May 1st. There are 9 spots remaining at that retreat. I’d love to see you there! Register HERE.
TRAIL RUNNING CLINIC
Come join me on June 3rd as we work on uphill and downhill running technique! If you are signed up for any of the mountain races in New Hampshire, like Loon or Race the Cog, this is a fantastic opportunity to get experience running on grades from 19-41%. Register HERE.
FALL RETREAT
There are 6 remaining spots at Rise Run Retreat this fall. You don’t want to miss this one! It’s going to be fun! Register HERE.
What’s not changing…
I’m going to continue coaching (my roster has some openings if you want to work together) and writing this weekly newsletter and showing up on Instagram, so I’m not disappearing entirely.
I want to acknowledge to that PUMA, our headline sponsor, has been unbelievably supportive, gracious and understanding in this entire process. It has made me love the team there even more. They might be a large global brand, but their Run Department is comprised of some amazing individuals who care deeply.
To all of you who have been to Rise Run Retreat in the past eight years, thank you! And to those of you who have always wanted to come, what are you waiting for;)
Sarah