For a long time I was listening to the wrong voices. One of them was my own - that little, small, cowardly voice that would say "you can't do that" when I started to feel like I could. I also listened to others, who, "meaning well", would discourage me from doing something I wanted to do. (Grammi, I know exactly how you feel!)
(please note, I do not actually hear voices. This is a metaphor. No worries here (:)
Tomorrow, I leave for Florida with my sister in law/BFF for a 5K. It's been in the works for almost 6 months now. It's the top item on both of our bucket lists.
This has been a long time coming. If you've been following my blog from the beginning, you know it was borne from a desire to change after a bad accident changed my attitude on life. I was certain, for quite a few months while I recovered, that I simply could not do certain things ever again. If you had told me then that I would ever run a 5K, I would have bet you money that I could not have done it.
And yet, I leave tomorrow.
I was the girl who listened to the voice that said "You can't run. Your knees were all torn up in the accident. You have bad knees. You're too heavy. You'll have to settle for walking."
After I got over that, and saw how my body was healed and whole again and actually started to believe I could run (with the help of the Biggest Loser, and the "Ease Into 5K app by Bluefin- I highly recommend it BTW!) I heard the voice again when it was time to step up my running. I tried to stay in my comfort zone, ignoring the next day's training regimen and staying where it was safe. Until I went for it. I will never forget the day I ran for FIVE WHOLE MINUTES (it's in capitals because it was a big deal then) and came into the house and burst into tears when my husband asked me how it went. I was just so damn proud of myself. Something in me shifted that day, and I became a whole lot braver in what I was capable of.
I have learned that I don't have to listen to the voice that tries to discourage me from doing something that's good for me. Because a lot of times, that voice lies.
This road was long, and hard. A friend of mine who started training AFTER me finished a 5K months ago. I started and stopped and then started again BUT what's important is that I have learned that two steps forward and one step back is still one step forward. I didn't give up. That counts for something!
I am currently recovering from shin splints. One voice I DID listen to was the doctor's when he told me to take it easy this week. That was actually hard advice to follow. I was absolutely, positively convinced that if I didn't run a little this week, I would not be able to complete the 5K on Friday. It was kind of an irrational thought, since I have been training for weeks and weeks...but that nagging voice kept saying over and over that I was going to fail if I didn't practice some more. My other BFF, an avid runner, also told me to rest. Still, I wanted to run, because that voice told me that it would mess up my whole routine if I didn't. But I rested, because I had come too far to hurt myself and not be able to participate. I trusted my doctor and iced & took Aleve and elevated and compressed. Today, the day before I leave, I am feeling pretty good - no leg pain. I am so happy I listened to the right voice. Solomon was right to ask for wisdom. It's one of the greatest gifts we can have.
I'm totally not in the best shape of my life (cue the understatement of the year award), and at 50 pounds overweight, this run may be a struggle. I may have to walk for a few minutes here and there, and I am not looking to finish in a certain time our anything. My goal? To cross the finish line. (and not on a stretcher haha) Because that to me will be the moment when I truly, madly, deeply know that YES I CAN. No matter what anyone (including me) says!
I still hear "that voice". But it's somewhat quieter now. And I'm starting to overcome it and squash it before it can get out a whole sentence. It certainly was not audible when I packed my suitcase tonight: running shoes, special running socks, a bright pink headband, sports bras. It was a runner's suitcase.
I'm a runner.
|Catch me if you can!|