|Life, love, career, Mexican food night: Give them all you've got.|
As can be inferred from recent posts, my serious training came to a screeching halt after attempting my first 100miler. Try as I might, My very first DNF has done fine job of stealing my mojo...or so I thought. I bounce theories around with conclusions ranging from existential meltdowns to shrugging it off and saying, "shit happens." Perhaps a little optimism is in order.
Despite my efforts to appear nonchalant and aloof, I value my life, my success, and my happiness. Why shouldn't I? I'm in a good position to do some good in this world. Rather than an unfortunate event, I think my world being turned on its head was incredibly well-timed. I returned home from Colorado with an outlook that wasn't quite mine. Running had a stranglehold on the rest of my life. I've recently had a change of heart, which has lead to a sense of peace and balance.
Summer running season ending less than ideally, undergrad studies being over, and now a nice mail reminder that I owe the federal government several full sacks with dollar signs on them. These things had me down, now I've realized something: It's time to get moving. I want my life to matter, to me and others. I had humble beginnings as an athlete(hell, I'm still not anything to write home about), but I've found a niche that feels great. Others deserve to know that they can also rise from the ashes of a sedentary lifestyle and feel the sweat on their brow and the burn in their muscles from pushing themselves.
On a professional note, I want to bring a personal touch into what I do. I'm no artist, but I'm willing to put effort into making sure people know I have their attention. Many of us bloggers are inspired by writers like Seth Godin, who preach the value of emotional labor. It separates creative artists from mediocre painters. I want to use emotional labor to separate myself, as a compassionate healer, from cookie-cutter personal trainers.
With regard to my own training, I'm letting it come to me. When I decide to slack, I'm going to slack gloriously. Enjoy a movie and quit thinking about running. When its time to run, its time to run. No waiting for it to be over, no dissociating from the experience. I know I love running. It has become a part of me. I just have to keep some faith that it will come back. Letting myself get scatterbrained is what has lead to my current paralysis. I spend my non-running time thinking, "I should really be running more" and it causes anxiety with running. And that, you poor people who subject yourselves to my deranged inner monologues, is stupid.
|Slack gloriously. Slack so hard that your beer|
has to wear a casual shirt.
|Work Hard. Work so hard that you have to set up a designated |
zone, then have a random stranger take picture of you in library.
|Run with some heart. Run so with so much heart that you don't care that you posess the awkward|
body comparable to those weird future-telling white humanoids from Minority Report
Must.resist. urge. to say. I won...this race.