Learning to Run

If you know me very well, you've probably heard me make fun of my athletic ability (or lack thereof) and declare my lifelong goal to be the avoidance of running, especially in public. The annual Presidential Fitness test was the bane of my school years, and I still have nightmares about doing the Shuttle Run while my classmates look on from the bleachers! In fact, I even took Summer School P.E., electing to get up at 7am on summer mornings rather than do physical activity in front of my classmates during a regular school day.

Over the years, I've used joking to mask my embarrassment at my lack of physical ability and fitness. I figured if I convinced myself and everyone else that I didn't care or want to have anything to do with exercise (specifically running), I wouldn't have to deal with the embarrassment or hard work involved with actually trying, or even worse, failing!

A couple of weeks ago, I went to visit Tiffany, who is working incredibly hard to train for a 10k in Denver to benefit Women for Women International, specifically Congolese women. By the way, if you're inspired to sponsor her, you can do so here. (She will kill me for adding that link, but she's too far away for me to be worried.) She continued her training during my visit and inspired me to give running a try, for several reasons. Aside from the physical benefits and the desire to develop healthy habits while I am young, I wanted to quiet the voices (that are my own!) that tell me the idea of my doing anything physical is laughable. I wanted to put in the work to do something good for myself. I was also remembering something I read in Compassion about patience. The authors describe patience as a 3rd option we have when our desired response is fight or flight. Instead, patience gives us the strength to endure, to be fully present and to live in the present. When I read that, I realized that I often have very little patience with difficult things and that I often "fly" before I even try, wanting to preserve myself from embarrassment and failure.

So, for these reasons and more, I ran. Tiffany developed a little plan for me, gave me a little space and a lot of encouragement, and I did it. It was hard work, I looked, sounded, and felt like I was going to die, but I didn't, and I felt so good afterward. So, I decided to continue, and Rusty and I have started a three-times-a-week running regimen. Mom gave me some running shoes, Rusty put a running mix on my ipod, and off we went. I'd love to say that it felt good or that I accomplished more each day. It didn't and I haven't. But with a little encouragement from my new running partner, I have gone, and for now, that in itself is pretty big.

So here I am, a 27 year old new runner. Usually that would send me looking for something mocking or witty to say about the fact that I'm not athletic and can't run. But not this time. For now I am patiently learning to reprogram my thinking and to run.