I’ll admit, to the rest of the world it’s not that early. It’s 7:00 a.m. and for me, it’s early. I quietly step across the cracky, knotted floors to my closet and slip into my running clothes. It’s an act of discipline that gets me this far. The one positive, reaching this point is a triumph in itself. Once the sole of my foot meets the smooth flooring my resolve is set and I do not turn back, but I don’t like the run.
|Shadow in the morning sun (okay maybe it’s more like 7:45)|
I’m an organized list maker. I do well with defined goals. Running makes little sense to me. The goal, not tangible enough or immediate enough and because I cannot define the goal I struggle to assemble the steps to reach it. Currently, this is my only available option for exercise. So, I slide out of bed and bolster my resolve to understand and define. These are the lessons I have learned.
A simple one, Pace Myself. My approach to life resembles a racehorse. Each task is attacked, like the shot was fired and the surrey gates flung open. My first journeys on the asphalt were silly sights. I tried to sprint 3 miles. My lungs burned and I gasped and sputtered for breath. I did race, to a quick halt. Wondering how folks did this for miles and miles. Then, a light bulb in my oft thick skull, I could run at a slower speed and I may just complete the journey. This was a turning point.
I cannot run the pace of my magnificent husband. His body was built for strength and speed. Mine’s not too shabby, but it cannot compete with his. When we began our journey together I sensed I was holding him back. I had to let him run and I have to complete my journey right where I am….
Being too goal oriented makes me poor company……. and I’m the one who loses in the end. My focus on the goal robbed me of the joy in the journey… or, the joy I could find with company on the journey. Trying to catch the runner in front of me makes me impatient and unwilling to take a slower pace to encourage the ones running near me. My kids are fantastic running partners and they easily step in pace beside me.
My squeaky left running shoe makes folks smile. I think it’s really annoying and I need to get a new pair but watching them look up to see what that noise is and then smile in the knowing….
|My squeaky shoes|