I'm
good at a few things: Baking scones, taking tests, packing for
trips. I find success in those activities without much effort, and I
have come to expect good results with each attempt. Running, however,
does not have an "easy" button for me. I am decent at it, but I have to
work really, really hard not to suck. If nothing else, for my training
efforts this winter I'm going to have the strongest ankle muscles in
running history (doesn't that just scream sexy?).
When I was running
Wednesday evening, my lower legs (for what felt like the 100th time)
were straining to trod over the still uneven street and sidewalk
surfaces that through the preceding weeks had been doused in snow and
scraped, shoveled, semi-salted, and otherwise razed to create
a potentially dangerous sort of race track. In instances of physical
challenge such as this, my inclination had usually been to fixate on the
pain, worry about possible injury, and complain and fret until my next
run when the pain would return, migrate, or lay dormant, waiting to
strike (ahem, give me an excuse to bonk) during a race. All this led to
constant worry about any activity becoming the culprit of my next
injury. I had not only accepted running in pain (something always hurt
when I exercised), but I came to expect it. I had actually, without
consciously trying, lowered my expectations to meet my injuries. I had
let the injuries become part of who I was, and they shaped my running
identity. I felt like I just wasn't put together for running, like I
was a runner in a non-runner's body. But I kept running.
Back to Wednesday night:
The muscles around and above my ankles were burning with the effort of
propelling my lower body over footprints, ice chunks, and garbage, but
when my brain started down its old path of "this is bad"-ness, I got
indignant and stopped in my tracks. It was there, on Niagara Street,
that I decided enough was enough: I gave my bossy brain an energetic
bitch-slap. This winter running was going to STRENGTHEN my legs,
CONDITION my heart and lungs and PROPEL my fitness to a new level. No
more hurting, no more fretting, and no more feeling sorry for myself,
like a misfit toy, over how I was put together (and of course, I
couldn't help but clear my chakras, too).
I had kept running through
the pain because of what running could give me - stress release,
calorie burning, a feeling of accomplishment, but I wasn't giving to the
running. I'm not talking training intensity or fidelity, I mean
attitude and appreciation. I needed to expect more from myself, rather
than relying on running to provide me with an escape and a size 2 butt.
To put a spin on JFK's words: Ask not what your running (or
teaching/parenting/basket weaving) can do for you, really examine what
you can do to improve your efforts holistically. We can raise our own vibrational
frequencies to meet our high expectations, and then we will feel more
accomplished and be prone to continuing the cycle. For me it was like
stepping out of a snow bank and onto a sunny boardwalk. And, it
inspired me to write this post. Expect more like this one out of me - I
do.