I was never a runner. In fact, I hated running. I liked running around the playground with friends, but just running non-stop and racing against the clock? Ugh, that was the worst.
Every Thanksgiving, my elementary school held a “Turkey Trot.” After learning the history of the holiday and making turkeys in art class, we would race around the course the gym teachers had created in the schoolyard. How cute, right?
I dreaded the event every year, but participation was mandatory.
I was the smallest kid in my class. I was short and skinny and just an all around “Peanut,” as my mom lovingly called me. I didn’t mind being so small, most of the time, but when it came to sports my friends left me in the dust (or the mud, but more on that later).
I couldn’t keep up. I blamed my size, an innate part of me which I had no control over. I didn’t understand running was a skill and I could get better with practice. I drew the conclusion that I wasn’t cut out for running and that was just the hand of cards I’d been dealt. As a result of my mindset, I didn’t even try to improve.
So every year the Turkey Trot rolled around and every year I was the VERY LAST child in my class to finish. Growing up in Michigan the weather was usually crappy the week of Thanksgiving – freezing cold with one kind of precipitation or another. It was the same craziness year after year; hundreds of kids doing laps around the course getting wet and muddy.
One year the mud was so bad I raced in moonboots. Remember moonboots in the ’80? We LOVED our moonboots. Getting new moonboots was a highlight of the season.
Anyway, one year I was huffing and puffing my way around the stupid Turkey Trot course, schlepping my giant moonboots through the mud, while everyone else seemed to be relaxing on the other side of the finish line and pinning their ribbons to their jackets. I couldn’t wait to get the damn race over with. When I came to the downhill part of the course, I was so relieved. Almost done. I picked up speed. Racing down the hill as fast as I could, I planted my feet in the mud and proceeded to launch right out of my moonboots. D’OH!!
The cold mud startled me as I felt it squish into my white socks.
“Noooooooo!” As if this event wasn’t humiliating enough.
But, alas, what’s a girl to do? I pried my boots from the grip of the mud, crammed my filthy feet, socks and all, back into my new boots (sorry, Mom) and kept running. When I crossed the finish line I got a green ribbon just like every other kid who had finished. I stuffed it into my pocket and tried to put the whole disaster behind me.
As I grew, my distaste for running continued. Eventually I graduated from all classes where running was a requirement (Thank, God!) and running became non-existent in my life.
A few months ago, endurance training captured my attention. It seemed everywhere I turned there was something about the mental benefits of running, especially for entrepreneurs. Running seemed to be helping entrepreneurs learn how to stay focused on the task at hand, how to properly pace themselves so they can go the distance without burnout and how to move beyond limiting beliefs about what they are physically, mentally and emotionally capable of.
Developing more of those skills sounded good to me so I started a running program. Almost three months later, I’m hooked. I actually look forward to my daily runs and I’m experiencing the payoffs in all areas of my life.
We are who we think we are. For decades I told myself I wasn’t a runner because I sucked at it and that was “just the way it is.” I was wrong.
I’m a runner because I run. I’m a writer because I write. I’m a singer because I sing.
Give yourself permission to be whatever you want to be and go have some fun developing that skill. It’s not always about getting the blue ribbon. It’s about whom you get to BE when you’re doing things that help you grow and expand.
xo
