The ache that can follow the finish

We train for the start. We dig deep for the middle. We celebrate the finish.
But what happens after the medal is hung, the shoes are kicked off, and the noise fades?

For many women, the days after a race or big adventure can feel surprisingly heavy. The structure, purpose, and camaraderie that held you up are suddenly gone. What you thought would be a glow sometimes lands as a hollow. This is called post-race letdown: and it’s far more common than most of us talk about.

Why the Ache Shows Up

1. Neurochemistry.

Training and racing flood the body with endorphins, dopamine, and adrenaline. When the goal is met, those levels crash. That chemical drop can mimic sadness, fatigue, even grief.

2. Identity and Rhythm.

For weeks or months, your days were shaped by a training plan. You knew when to run, when to rest, what to eat. That rhythm gave meaning. Without it, you may feel unmoored.

3. Connection and Community.

Races often bring a sense of tribe — training with others, sharing start-line jitters, trading stories mid-climb. When the event ends, so does that intensity of shared experience. Loneliness can creep in.

4. Achievement Paradox.

Strangely, achieving a big goal can stir the question: Now what? Instead of pure satisfaction, you might feel pressure to chase the next thing, or doubt that you’ll ever reach the same high again.

How to Honour the Transition

Instead of treating the ache as a problem, what if we saw it as proof? Proof that you poured yourself fully in, that you cared enough to miss it when it ended. Here’s how to move through it:

• Create Rituals of Closure. Write a race reflection, share stories with your crew, print a photo that captures the grit. Mark the finish as an ending, not just an empty space.
• Shift to Recovery Goals. Replace performance with restoration. Sleep, mobility, gentle strength, trail time without a watch. These aren’t “less than.” They’re what allow you to rise again.
• Stay Connected. Organise a group run, check in on race friends, or mentor someone training for their first event. Connection doesn’t have to end with the finish line.
• Name the Ache. Talking openly about post-race blues removes the shame. You’re not ungrateful or broken: you’re human.

Beyond the Race

This isn’t just about running. The ache of finishing shows up in other parts of life too:

• After a project at work ends.
• After a season of caregiving shifts.
• After kids leave home.
• Even after a holiday you’d been anticipating for months.

In each case, joy and loss aren’t opposites. They coexist. The end of something meaningful carries both celebration and grief.

The Invitation

Finishing isn’t just about crossing a line. It’s about learning how to carry what follows. The ache you feel is not emptiness, it’s evidence. Evidence that you lived with focus, that you gave your all, that you let yourself be changed.

And like every climb, the ache eventually softens into strength.

Reflection Prompt

• Where in my life have I felt the ache after finishing?
• What small rituals or rhythms could help me honour that transition instead of rushing past it?