Today’s been a good day.
Remember about ten weeks ago when I licked myself like a cat in the gas station parking lot and went to see my PT for the first time? (these two things have nothing to do with each other, it was just the chain of events that day). Remember how my PT told me she didn’t think my running the Boston Marathon was a good idea (I mean she is a PT and someone trying to run a marathon with a hip stress fracture might just appear stupid). Remember how I cried in frustration and you guys had to pick up the pieces?
She still may not think it’s the best idea on the planet – in the world of all the great ideas out there like sticky notes and pita chips – but today, the day of our last visit, she gave me her blessing. We fist-bumped on my way out. She told me I looked strong and capable. That my plan for Boston was a good one (keeping a pace that is 60 to 90 seconds slower than my BQ pace, taking one minute walk breaks, enjoying and soaking up every last minute of this epic event). I think I may have even overheard her tell someone I was a “higher level athlete,” which I had never been called in my life. I farted with joy.
It was another of those full circle moments. I am probably not completely healed and I would not be running a marathon in 19 days if it wasn’t Boston. But, I am good enough, and if I am willing to ask my pace-ego to step aside, I just might pull this off.
These days I am running slower than I did when I first started running 2.5 years ago. I’m not going to lie and say “at least I am running!” It is humbling and frustrating. The runner mind is a funny thing. You give it an inch and it wants to take a freaking ten mile tempo run.
Case in point. For months all I wanted to do was run. Any pace any distance. Once I could run for five minutes at a time all I wanted to do was run a mile. Once I could run a mile all I wanted to do was run five miles. Once I could do that I wanted to run five miles faster.
STOP!! That is exactly how I get myself in trouble in the first place. My crazy overachieving mind loves to tell me I am not enough. Today as I ran five miles I had this conversation going on in my head:
Small self (negative, competitive, controlling, judgmental): “Seriously? A 9:30 minute mile? Is that all you’ve got?”
Big self (accepting, intuitive, peaceful): “What you are doing today is enough. There will be time to work on pace later when you are fully healed. Take care of yourself.”
Small self: “At this rate it really will take you 8 hours to complete the Boston Marathon.”
Big self: “It takes however long it takes. You will be there running and that’s what counts.”
And so it goes. The question is, who do you listen to? I am a BIG SELF follower right now. I trust her. She knows how to keep me healthy and safe. And she knows more than just running. I hope to follow her for a long time.
I’ll drink to that (another good part of my day):
Do your big and small selves (good/evil, obnoxious/calm, whatever you want to call it) battle it out? Who wins?
Off to fix the hole in my tights from doing that jump,