Whaddya Expect?

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.