Identity foreclosure. What is it? 

As defined by AlleyDog.com it is “a stage of self-identity discovery in which an individual has an identity but hasn’t explored other options or ideas.” This construct is seen in athletes who give extensive attention to their sport at the expense of all other interests. 

Identity foreclosure is one of those things that feels really good for a while. You find your niche, and you OWN IT. You decide WHAT you are, and all of a sudden that becomes WHO you are. You live it and you breathe it. Because usually, you’re pretty good at it. 

For me, my identity wasn’t foreclosed until I was in college. Before that I was Kerry the runner, the figure skater, the friend, the adventure-seeker, the foodie, and so much more. I didn’t have my “thing” because I had many things. Once I started seeing some success out on the cross country trails in college, running not only became my “thing” but also my identity. 

On the surface, this looked like commitment. I was working harder at my training than I ever had before, I was extremely disciplined, I chose nights in resting to prepare for practice rather than going out with friends, I skipped out on post-race ice cream, I stuck to the salad bar at the dining hall, and every decision that I made was based on my goals to be faster and fitter. I gave all of my attention to sport at the expense of all other interests. I was “Kerry the runner” and I kind of liked it. 

This is what competitive runners do, right? They train hard, they eat right, their social life exists only at practice, and they commit their whole selves to their sport. Because that’s how you become a better runner, and in-turn, a better YOU. 

After all, that’s what all of those competitive runners you follow on instagram do, right? You know, the ones who are posting Strava screenshots of their 20+ mile runs, their double or triple workout days, their kale salads and protein shakes, their new running shoes, their 5am wake-up to fit in a workout before the day starts. 

I had that 110% commitment that is so admired in the world of athletics. Anything less than that won’t get you the medals, or the recognition, or that feeling of mastery. At least, that’s the idea that is promoted in the sporty system. So of course I thought I was doing everything right. 

The construct of identity foreclosure comes with it’s consequences though, and it doesn’t usually take too long for them to start showing up. Once you have a bad race, or an injury, or you experience burnout, or you don’t make the team, that identity, the one you worked so hard to develop and hang on to, is threatened. And then what? Who are you? 

I recently read the book Untamed by Glennon Doyle (if you haven’t read this one, I highly recommend), and a specific quote resonated with me….

“Ask a woman who she is, and she’ll tell you who she loves, who she serves, and what she does… the fact that we define ourselves by our roles is what keeps the world spinning. It’s also what makes us untethered and afraid. If a woman defines herself as a wife, what happens if her partner leaves?… If a woman describes herself as a career woman, what happens if the company folds? Who we are is perpetually being taken from us, so we live in fear instead of peace… We build sandcastles and then try to live inside them, fearing the inevitable tide.”

Untamed, Glennon Doyle, Page 303

It’s so easy to fall into that trap of wanting to be the athletes who live and breathe their sport. I did, and I’d be willing to bet a lot of you reading this did at one point, too. When I suffered a season-ending injury in the first race of my senior year of college, I was lost. I didn’t know who I was, I barely had a social life outside of my teammates and roommates, I felt like I had let the whole world down, and I was still confused about my career. I felt empty, because my identity that I had worked so hard to create was gone. 

In a strange way, I look back on that injury as a huge blessing. It forced me to look deeper at the life I had created, to consider what I had been sacrificing, what I wanted to get back, and who I wanted to be. All of a sudden I couldn’t pour all of my energy into running and as scary as that was, it was also freeing. 

It’s unfortunate, though, that it took a terrible injury to get me to that place. And it took a LOT of reflecting, and a LOT of work after that injury to build the life I wanted. To be honest, it took years until I felt total freedom, but now I’m proud to be Kerry – the woman who loves adventure, who finds enjoyment out of running, who is always up for a challenge, who is devoted & loyal, and so much more.

All of this was not to say that it’s best not to be dedicated to your sport…. But being dedicated to running and identifying as “the runner” are two very different things. Being dedicated can and should be a balance. It should look like commitment, showing up, putting in the work, giving it your all, but also having room for things like career goals, hobbies, a social life, and any other interests that make you happy. Running will always be a part of my identity, and when I train for a race I intend to do so with dedication. But I will never again let my training define me.