...the one who thinks he can

Once my boys learned to speak, if they uttered the words "I can't" when trying to do something, I always told them that "can't" means "won't." Hearing my son repeat my words to a struggling teammate this winter made me something beyond proud. He believes.

Tomorrow I'm running in a group run for fun. It's not a race but it's a good distance for the first run of the season... so I am already setting my mind. If you struggle with your goals and if you doubt, and if you are afraid you aren't strong enough, and if you think that you "can't", tomorrow I run for you. Because anyone can.

This is something I'd like my kids to remember and live by. It is absolutely true. (I didn't write it.)

If you think you are beaten, you are;
If you think that you dare not, you don’t;
If you like to win, but you think you can’t,
It’s almost certain you won’t


If you think you’ll lose, you’ve lost;
for out in the world you’ll find
Success begins with a fellow’s will.
It’s all in the state of mind.


If you think you are outclassed, you are;
You’ve got to think high to rise;
You’ve got to be sure of yourself before
You can win the prize.


Life’s battles don’t always go
To the strong or faster man;
But sooner or later the man who wins
Is the man who thinks he can.

humbled

On Wednesday, I went to the dreaded treadmill to run 4 miles. As I said in my first post, my thoughts are/were "This is easy. I got this!" mainly because I run about 40 minutes on a treadmill every time I step onto one.

I got on and struggled through 2 miles... and had to stop. My body was failing me. I was all freaked out about why. I have a great VO2 max so I rarely struggle with the cardio aspect. One of my joints was hurting- not strained, not challenged, but pain...

What is this?!?!? I run 4 miles for breakfast. If you called me up right now and said hey can you run 4 miles with me, I'd say "sure" without reluctance... Four miles is a piece of cake. Four miles is a stroll in the park. Oh, and by the way, I have a new minimum mph time whenever I step on the treadmill for a short run because I'm so hard core that I REQUIRE a challenge for myself all the time...

Ha. Ha. Hahahahahaaaaa.

Silly girl. Here's what I forgot:

I was on my feet ALL DAY before getting on that treadmill. I wasn't just standing or walking, I was climbing and jumping and lifting and pulling and balancing. When I wasn't on my feet, I was on my knees. So who do I think I am? I am not so special that my body is exempt from wear. I am not exempt from bad days. I am not so special that I don't need a little slack once in awhile.

I stopped the treadmill and stretched and tried not to panic on the inside. I started the treadmill again and ran 2 more miles at a very comfortable pace where I could sing along to my music in order to test my comfort level. (I'm sure my fellow treadmill-ers along side me love when I do that.) This is .6 mph slower than my usual treadmill pace. I'm glad I can run. I'm glad that my body tells me when I need to get over myself, and just enjoy the fact that I can do it.

trickery

I live in New Jersey right on the ocean. Long runs in the winter are not ideal as I am a big baby when it comes to cold weather. I know that your body heats up enough to make it feel 20 degrees warmer- so according to the math, I should've run outside today. 42+20=62 and that's not so bad. But I pushed myself in through the gym doors and onto a treadmill. Today, Hal Higdon says a seven mile run is in order. Prior to committing to a marathon and becoming pals w/ Hal and following his program, I did not run in place for more than 45 minutes. It's boring. It's torture. It's endless. But a commitment is a commitment, even if it's all of those things. Yes.

I do not know how on earth people run at a consistent pace on a treadmill for any real duration of time. I am constantly messing with my speed. I can't just set the speed and run that speed for even 20 minutes. So many things cause me to speed up or stride wider or slow down. How can I not run sprint to the chorus of certain songs? How can I not slow down if I have to scratch my butt or pick a wedgie? How can I not run faster to empowering lyrics? If anyone has input on this or information on why this is ok or not, I welcome it... Spending time on a treadmill is a true test of patience and will. I have to constantly ask myself how bad I want to keep my commitment to myself. If a stint of boredom and strain is enough to make me break my commitment, then I am lying to myself- and I really don't want it. And I have no commitment. If resigning to sit on my butt at home and surf the internet (or whatever) is more important than the goal I set for myself, then I really don't have a goal.

During the difficult part of every run, I remind myself: THIS WILL END. It is not forever. It is not undefined. There is an end. If I dare start feeling disdain or regret over the suffering I CHOSE to put myself through by CHOOSING to run, or if I dare allow the word "can't" to enter my thoughts, I remind myself of the suffering of others that are close to me that they did NOT choose yet had to endure. And it makes me feel strong and foolish at the same time. I have family members that endured abuse, oppression, poverty, homelessness and deep loss... my VOLUNTARY suffering is a freakin' walk in the park compared to their suffering. And all at once, I man up and I finish my run. I wonder how this tactic will work when I run 26.2 miles...

Luck

I do not believe in luck. It doesn't make logical sense. I believe in chance and odds. And I believe in the desire to have odds in one's favor. But luck is like fairies. Fairies are a great thing to imagine, but they aren't going to exist just because you want to will them into existence. I wish fairies existed for real. (especially the ones that clean your house when you're sleeping or not home) But luck, like fairies, doesn't make sense to me.

I was approached by someone recently who said "You're so lucky you can run for so long. I could never do that."

I am too literal. My brain processes this in the most literal way possible and my first reaction is to be somewhat insulted. But I realize that this woman is trying to compliment me so I responded with some words of encouragement and thanks and I went on my merry way. But what was I really thinking:

Luck has absolutely nothing to do with it. Luck did not bring forth my willingness and effort. Luck does not make me say no to indulgent and unhealthy food and alcohol(which I love love love love) and force me out the door to push through several miles of running. Luck did not make me willing to sweat through all of my clothes. (Yeah even my underwear is soaking wet after a long run- how lucky!) How could you call me lucky? I work my ass off and I still kind of have a big ass, all things considered so where is my luck? Surely you are joking. You cannot possibly be serious. You cannot call my drive, perseverance, and hard work LUCK!!! Moron.

And after this mental rant, I thought about the second sentence in her attempted compliment to me: "I could never do that."

Well, it's clear that you won't then, if that's what you've already decided. But if you tried, you could. You would have to try a lot. And try like you really meant it. And try when you don't feel like trying. And try the next day and the next and the next. You would have to try to keep trying even when it's difficult and even when it seems like you're not getting anywhere. If you did all that, then you could. And by the way, that's how I do it. If you do it, perhaps you'll feel lucky.

This doesn't only apply to running by the way...

For the Love of the Mother (in me)

Speaking of babes, this regularly fuels my run as well.