Who Am I?

Who am I?

I am a runner.  Does that sound shallow?  Perhaps it is.

I am much more than this of course.  However, most days I believe being a runner allows me to be the things I actually am other than a runner.  The act of propelling my body gives me depth to who was I several years ago before I started running. 

 I was a person with layers before this of course,  the same person really.  Without the anesthetic and medicating effects of an exhausting effort that leaves me breathless and weak I am somewhat different however.

 Last year Ellie entered my life, adopted from a rescue.   My intention was twofold.  To provide Tanner with canine companionship and to never, ever love a dog as deeply as I had Annabelle.  That changed when I opened the front door and laid eyes on her. I had an immediate and emotional reaction and there on the front porch,  not yet into the house, I fell in love.  Hard.  With her blind eye and other visible battle scars she is oddly beautiful and  something in her captured my heart in two seconds.

 More than a year later I understand much better what it is that grabbed me in those first few seconds.  You see Ellie is a runner too.  She has an amazing capacity for love despite her history.  She is loving and spunky, protective and gentle, independent and intuitive. There is a “but” to this description however.   After a few days without a run, her barely restrained attitude goes from loving to rebellious to outright defiance.  She gets a look in her eyes and you can visibly see tension building in her little body.  She begins to pounce on toys and throw them to the other side of the room, race the three levels of the house tearing through anything in her way, pouncing on the puppy and the elderly dog and generally creating mass chaos with her energy.  She barks more, she eats faster and is less than patient with anyone around her.  She is an emotional path of destruction.

 I get it.  My foundation doesn’t change with running.  My  values and character are mostly static and I am the same person whether I get to go for a run or not.  Although I am a runner I am not one dimensional as a person.  However after a few days without  a run, I begin to resemble Ellie and feel the way she acts. 

 From birth I have contained a high level of emotional volatility.  I feel deeply and there is little distance between the boiling point of my emotions and the veneer of social grace and politeness. The exhausted state of post run calmness has given me a tempered platform for emotional expression.  After a run I am  clear on my thoughts and my emotional energy often has been moderated.  It  gives me insight and stillness, bringing a calm to internal storms.  It tempers my emotions and reactions.    More than that it gives me confidence and strength in my ability to control my life, my body and my physical space.  It allows me to be in charge of myself and my life.  It brings me to a beautiful place emotionally and also brings me to beautiful places physically.  There is something incredibly spiritual about running through the woods , witnessing whatever animals are also out playing, sunsets, storms and all the continuum of seasons.  The time I spend with my dogs while running is the most valuable therapy I could possibly get and  if I could capture my every thought while running, I would have several books written by now.  The act of moving my body in repetition releases something in me allowing  depth and creativity to my thoughts without  restrictions or distractions.

 Does running define me?  It does on at least one level and I am ok with that.  It is not the single definition of me, but it  uncovers many of my other layers. I believe we all want deeply for others to know us, know who we really are without judgment or rejection.  It is running and the voice I find within me while running that often gives me the strength and courage to be open enough to be known.

 For the next few weeks, I will not be running.  I will miss everything about it and I will miss myself.  I have heard statements assuming running is an addiction to the endorphins.  It is a nice side effect of  course.  For me running makes the whole world right and my reset button.  I will do what I can to maintain my fitness and I will train in different ways.  Until I can run again, I will miss who I am.



I want to give myself away, to lose myself.
Anaïs Nin

 

 

Ironman Journey~Perception and a Photo

One of my stress relievers has always been to doodle and play with crayons.  In the days leading up to Ironman I found myself doing this more than usual, perhaps as a way to check out and hid from my racing thoughts.  The irony of the picture I drew doesn't escape me and me laugh at myself as I arrived at Athlete Central last week.  I was transformed many times from my normal level of average self acceptance to an insecure and flubberish outcast.  Not really of course, but my fear whispered this and much more in my ear.  I was relieved to see pictures of myself which confirmed my fear was wrong...mostly..... 

The strange thing is that I kind of like her, no I really like her.  Although I seemed to be sketching out my alter ego, she has a certain kind of appeal.   Despite her appeal I was grateful for the reality check.  And thanks to two people who spent 7 minutes in my life, I have a finish line picture that looks a bit better than my goofy doodle.  When I look at the picture of the finish line, there is a massive disconnect between what I see and how I felt.  Which is true of most days for many of us.  I am looking forward to putting words to my experience and can only hope I do it justice.  In the meantime I will accept that most days I am a little of both pictures combined.   



Pictures from kerrie~IM

Click here to view these pictures larger

For Today

Here it is, race day and almost go time.  I didn't realize until arriving in Madison how much I didn't believe I would make it to the starting line.  Now that I am here and the start line is 125 minutes away, I am filled with a kalaidescope of emotions.

Fear is of course always the loudest.  And the most harmful.  So today I pray to be fearless in facing my pain and trust in my own strength and grateful I am here. 

Today's Gift

Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.
~Anais Nin





Through all of my feelings of anxiety and fear, I am blessed beyond belief.   A world which would have been much scarier, less comfortable and much less fun was changed and brightened.  I am grateful beyond belief.  A friend who drives several hours, shows up with flowers and goes through a process which should be tedious to him by now, with infinite patience.  Thank you more than you know, it was a different world today because you were there. 

Here I go.....

Chasing Butterflies

 

Maggie aka Moppet

 

I spend a lot of time wondering and worrying about the “what ifs” and they are rarely in my favor.  I don’t seem to naturally think about getting it right, being successful or saying all the right things.  Ok I don’t actually ever worry about saying the wrong things; it seems to be one of the few neuroses I have escaped.  There are hundreds more thought to make up for that one though. If I could just find a way to turn the momentum of these questions, I would make myself and a lot of others happy.

Most of us are facing challenges every day in our lives and we spend a lot of time working very hard to take very small steps forward.  

 

Over the last few weeks so many people have gone out of their way to say kind, thoughtful, and encouraging words.  I am blessed to have so many who people believe in me and my Ironman journey. My personal challenge to be open and vulnerable allows me to admit to a secret though.  As I have listened to the kindness of others, I am able to accept the words. I truly and from my heart appreciate their words.  I am unable to hear them without distortion though, because I have my own words which immediately begin to chatter loudly.  Only I can hear the voice and everyone else in the room remains unaware of this second conversation.  It is the naughty child in the back of the room creating chaos as soon as the teachers back is turned.  There is eye rolling and face making, and sarcasm.  It tells me that if they really knew me, if they knew what my training had been, if they knew how much my body hurts and how afraid I am every day of it failing me, if they knew I could have worked harder and done better…… they would take it all back.  Because the truth is, I am not strong enough, I have failed before and to be hopeful or sure of myself is asking for it.  It taunts me and sends me into a cycle of irrational fear and incapable of rational thought.  This all happens within a split second and no one else even knows it is taking place, this internal insanity.

 

My feeble grasp on sanity usually comes in the form of time with my three dogs.  The crazy mop of curls you see here has an amazing ability to make me laugh and feel loved beyone belief.  Maggie is a Labradoodle and one look at her lets you know she is crazy cute and utterly lovable.  I have a dozen nicknames for her Moppet, Mops, Magdaline, Poppy, Poppypoodle, Crazy,  Poodle and lots more.  She runs around with her tongue hanging out and loves everyone and everything she meets.  She loves to be near me and cuddles so tightly sometimes it’s hard to breathe which I love of course.  She brings me absolute joy and I have yet to look at her without smiling and it seems no one else can either.  She draws attention whereever she goes with her bouncy little walk and her attitude. 

 

Maggie loves to chase butterflies and because I live in the country she has a lot of  fields that are filled with them.  Walking past or in the fields she makes me laugh out loud as she pounces time after time. She tries just as hard for each one, going after the next one with the same energy.  She has yet to catch one, yet despite failing every time she will chase them with all her heart until she is exhausted.  She then finds a shady spot to plop herself down,  refusing to move until she has rested  and recovered. Within a few minutes she will take off like a canine pogo stick again just as happy as the time before. She never loses her joy for the chase and the moment.

 

 I learn a lot from my dogs and as I watch her do this I am reminded of where I get stuck. I watched her last week and realized that perhaps instead of worrying about the potential of failing, I might be better off remembering other things.  And instead of rolling my eyes and reminding myself of what people would think if they really knew what I was made of, that it is so damn amazing to be able to chase your dream. And that I get to do this, and win or lose the moment is the experience and my secret dialogue cheats me of that.  I would be dishonest if I said I didn't care about the outcome, I want more than anything to make it to the finish  line before midnight when they shut down the lights.  I have trained hard and pushed myself through some hellish moments to get there, and I want to finish. 

 

 

The "yeah buts" in my head are really fear.  I am afraid of other's believing in me and then falling short. In my fear I become myopic in my vision, and I lose sight of the joy of the chase we get to do. I hope is that I can become humble enough  to quietly see what others see and to believe it, even when I don't.  

Because from the outside others can see what we are capable of even when we can't and rather than fighting it I will practice accepting it. Outside of the circle of fear, they can see what we can't and the best we can do is embrace the moment, be grateful for it and all we get to do in it.  

 

 

“Come to the edge.”
“We can't. We're afraid.”
“Come to the edge.”
“We can't. We will fall!”
“Come to the edge.”
And they came.
And he pushed them.
And they flew.

Guillaume Apollinaire, 1880-1918