This past Sunday, I ran my fourth half marathon.
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| http://bcsmarathon.com/ |
But before you start getting the idea that I’m currently munching on celery and sipping an organic protein smoothie with antioxidants and kale as I gear up for my next race, let me set the record straight: I hate celery. AND, until just a few years ago, I also hated running. Also, to be accurate, I don’t exactly run. No. I’m the half-marathoner at mile 11 who is thinking her legs might not carry her one more mile when all of the sudden she hears loud honking behind her and sees a police officer motioning for her to move-the-heck-over so that the FULL marathon winner can pass by unhindered by slow pokes. That's exactly what happened on Sunday. We had both started running at 7 a.m., the elite marathoner and I, but he had managed to cover 25 miles in the time it took me to cover 11 – and it looked effortless. In other words:
In some ways, watching that elite runner pass by reminded me of my own life
and how it feels like so many around me are reaching new milestones and
turning new corners and grasping hold of long-held or even surprisingly new dreams.
Meanwhile, I mostly feel like I’m treading water and often recovering from
another big wave: infertility, spousal chronic illness, childhood cancer – to name
a few. I recently told a friend that I felt like I’d lived a decade in just two
years. I feel like I LOOK like I’ve lived a decade in two years, too.
Speaking of, can we just talk about my finish line photo for
a moment?
First, am I even running?
Second, why is my belt so high? Third, what is wrong with my FACE? Note to
self: smile for the camera next time like the happy people coming up behind
you.
I like my filtered phone photo better:
Anyway, I may not look pretty at the finish like the
ecstatic runners behind me or the elite runners at the front with their toned
bodies and running gear, but I celebrate finishing. After all, if there had been a high
school superlative for least-likely-to-ever-run-a-half-marathon, I would have won.
I’ve never been athletic. I absolutely hated PE as a kid. I was so terrible at ALL
the sports that my PE teachers would often pull me to the side during group
activities and give me individual practice and instruction. I froze in dodge
ball, ducked in basketball, and took a ball to the face in “soft” ball when I
got too busy talking to pay attention to the game. I resisted running at all
costs. I hated the outdoors and was scared of all bugs. (Truth: I am still not
a bug fan.) I was clumsy and awkward and saw no point in these games. I liked
to read, write, and play the piano. I didn’t understand why we had to be forced
to participate in PE.
But a few years ago, my metabolism slowed down as it tends
to do when you hit your thirties. I realized I would need to either curb my eating or start
exercising. I downloaded the Couch-to-5K app on my phone and started working
the program. In twelve weeks, I was supposedly going to be able to run a full
5K without walking. Considering that I could barely run the 90-second intervals
during the first week, I was skeptical. But, week after week, I saw progress
until eventually I ran a 5K. From there, my goals kept expanding. I still
remember the first time I ran five miles. It was so hard that at mile four, I
broke out in chills and thought I was going to puke. But when I hit the fifth
mile, I was incredibly proud of myself. I remember the first time I ran 10
miles, too. I finished at a lake in our neighborhood as the sun rose just perfectly
on a cool fall morning, and I was in awe .
I honestly still don’t love running. But I do love how it
makes me feel. I feel stronger, like I can accomplish anything. If a girl who
was always first out in dodge ball can find her way to a 13.1-mile finish line,
she can probably do anything she sets her mind to, God willing.
Still, I struggle with that belief. Doubt follows me whenever
I conceive a new idea or project. I wonder if it’s silly or unrealistic or
trite. I wonder if I can really pull it off. I wonder if it’s worth even trying,
knowing I will probably fail. This way of thinking has limited me in many ways
throughout my life.
This year, though, something changed. Maybe it’s because I’m
in the last year of my thirties and I’ve been sitting on ideas and dreams for
far too long. Or maybe it’s because nothing in life seems as scary or dramatic
anymore since my daughter’s cancer battle. Maybe it’s because my faith is growing
or my skin is getting thicker or my dreams are getting louder. Whatever the reason,
2018 has been a year of change for me. Slowly I have taken steps to fulfill
dreams and explore ideas and find my voice and try new things – even at the
risk of judgment, rejection, and failure.
I hope I’m even braver in 2019. And, since the first step to
achieving goals is to name them, here are a few of mine: start a local writer’s
group, finish the manuscript I’ve been fiddling with for years, write a new LIS
book proposal that excites and inspires me, and achieve a new PR in my 5K and
half marathon times.
What goal or dream have you been sitting on for too long?
Comment below for a chance to win a $20 Amazon gift card. Drawing at 10 p.m.
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By the way, I still haven't found my groove when it comes to keeping up with social media, but I’d love to connect with you:
Click here to visit my Facebook author page.
Hop over here to check out my occasionally updated Website.
Feel free to visit my rather silent Twitter account.
And, here is even a link to my shamefully neglected Instagram account.
Thanks for popping by to say hello!
