It was 11:30 pm on a Saturday night, about a month ago. The house was quiet except for the Christmas hallmark movie that was playing. Here I was AGAIN. I had mapped something out and I didn’t do it correctly. My failure speech was blaring in my head and I couldn’t decide how to handle it.
You see, in early summer, I had made my own plans about how my healing journey was going to play out, again. This was probably the 156th plan I had made, give or take. I consulted only myself, made my plans, and to solidify that they would actually happen…I signed up for a 5k in October and a 10k in December. I used to run….before my 2014 year and this seemed like a logical thing to do at the time. I was going to get better, beat my dysfunctional thyroid into submission, and lose weight. I had a fool proof plan…again. It didn’t work…again. So, I was in fits, quite literally….again. What now?
I didn’t want to NOT go and be THAT person in my head. More failure. However, I didn’t want to go alone and W A L K on top of it. No one could come with me because the race was on a Sunday. All of my people were serving at church. Could I really go alone? An overweight middle aged woman, alone, at a 5k that I had to W A L K? I imagined everyone there would be with friends and family, in perfect shape, dressed in all the fun pink tutus etc. They would be running. I was sure of it and I was setting myself up to be silently criticized by everyone there, if they even noticed me. I knew this wasn’t true. This wasn’t my first 5k, but it’s amazing what you can talk yourself into when you are spiraling.
I have been reading Atomic Habits. Awesome book. He talks about “stacking the deck” toward the person you want to be. Every action will support the person you are becoming or it will not. I knew that skipping the run wouldn’t put me on the path I wanted to be on, but I also didn’t want to subject myself to what I was going to have to do if I went. It felt like a lose-lose. I just couldn’t decide.
I texted my 20 year old son, the only other night owl in my family. I briefly explained my situation and then I said, “What do you think?” He said, with no hesitation, “Do it. You have no reason to not do it, other than fear.” So, I responded, “crap, you’re right. I’ll do it.” ….and I set my alarm and went to sleep.
Bright and early I arrived to the run. I picked up my bib and waited, fighting back tears. I refused to add crying on top of the list of self loathing things I was already fighting through. I just couldn’t wait for the thing to start. I wanted to be here with friends, fit, and feeling great. I love running. Standing there accepting my reality, definitely wasn’t my favorite.
Levi Lusko preached a sermon one time and the quote “Don’t hate humble beginnings” has never left me. I feel like I have humble beginnings quite often, lol. B U T that quote is comforting. For a recovering all or nothing achiever girl, it gives me permission to be at and even embraces the bottom rung.
My next fear was making sure that I came in before the race people were packing up and closing things down around me. So, I saw these people in front of me. They were walking. I was so happy. They shattered my imagined scenario of everyone being a runner. I put my eyes on their backs and made sure I never was too far behind them. If we finished as they were packing up, then at least I wouldn’t be alone. Before I got too close to the finish line, I snapped a pic for remembrance. As I crossed, the announcer congratulated me by name, thanks to somewhat creepy technology. I was grateful. It was validating.
This 5k turned out to be nothing about running, walking, tutus, or groups of friends in reality. It became about me doing something very imperfectly. Very messy and living through it. This isn’t to say that I think I haven’t ever done anything in my life imperfectly before, or that I think I have all my crap together all the time. This is more to say, that usually I don’t participate if I can’t at least do it to a mildly acceptable level. A very large lesson for me on the fact that this is what I have been doing in many areas of my life for the past several years. Every time I see this medal hanging in my closet, may these glorious girly chandeliers, dragonflies, heels, and diamonds will remind me.
So, I crossed that finish line. I was given my medal and I kept the pace walking straight to my car. I untied my key from my shoe laces and sunk into safety. All the while painfully aware that this felt strangely reminiscent of high school lunch time in the quad. A place of terror for four years after my first week as a freshman, a seagull crapped on my shirt during lunch hour. I hated the quad. It felt bad. This run didn’t feel good either. Couldn’t be happier that it was over.
As I sat there and mentally recovered, lots of people were getting in their cars. I wondered, as I often do in crowds, what their stories were. How many others were going through silent battles. How many were experiencing their own beginnings or even their own celebration of goals reached. I wish I could know.
I need to remember that I am going to have to feel this way many times over if I am actually going to make progress healing or even move forward in life. Change and growth just plain sucks sometimes. It can be scary and hard and feels….well, bad. I want it though. I’ll get it. Who knew so much could come out of a little Sunday morning run. Please Lord, help me keep my eyes open to always see it.
I heard a podcast recently where she said you have to sign up for the journey, not just the result. #mindblown I’m considering this run evidence of that decision. Excited to see where it takes me.
Next up, the 10k.