Humility

I've run merely twice in the last two weeks.  It's a different kind of endurance, not running.  I believe that I can endure anything -- hold my breath however long it takes to get to the other side of the pool.  But when the however long it takes is indefinite, I flounder.  


Then I come up with the stuff that makes me me.  


In January, after a rather stunning (as in surprised) blow, a life rearrangement of sorts, I realized I needed a spot on the horizon to shoot for.  I've learned in this life that it's not enough to run from what I don't want in my days; this girl needs to be running towards something.  So I signed up for a race.  As I've said before, I'm not fast.  I'm not graceful.  I don't ever win.  I've only placed once in the top three for my age group.  Winning, improving my time, fine-tuning my form isn't the point of a race for me.  It's the training.  I sign up for the training.  I need to commit to using my time, the time that I do have, in a way that's life-giving and creative.  I know too much about me and what I can to do with spare, unstructured time.  It's better that I aim for something.  It's kindest to society that way.  


So I recommitted to training.  I bought new shoes.  The pain in my ass from running on old shoes went away immediately.  I started eating better.  I drank more water.  I tried to sleep, but I suck at sleeping.  


And then life happened.  


Pretty early on in my training, I noticed an overuse injury on the horizon.  I had to alter my running schedule to accommodate it.  


Then all sorts of mamas decided to have babies, and 'on call' being what it is meant days and times were limited of when I could run.  


And then finally, you see, before I signed up for the race, I signed up for raising kids.  And I've had to put a lot of attention and energy into that bunch of kiddos lately.  For several weeks on end, one was very, very sick.  It was an all day and all night job just attending to him and getting by with the others.  


Work has suffered.  My 'quality me time' has suffered.  And my training has suffered.  And so here we are....I'm four weeks and some days out from this race, and I'm completely unprepared.  And I know there's only one thing to do, and it's the thing I'd least like to do.  I have to bow out -- at least of the full.  Maybe the half is in my future.  I do not  know.  But I know I don't have 26.2 miles in these legs at this point.  


And just to drive home that point, after weeks of caring for another, I too got sick.  And although I'm better every day, I know my oxygen exchange isn't optimal, and I know too much training will wreak havoc on my body.  


So HUMILITY has come calling on my door.  I tried not to answer.  I kept ignoring the knock.  And now, not only have I answered, but I'm hopeful, I've invited her to dinner and made her bed up for her to stay a while.  


Humility -- that grace that allows us to see who and what we actually are and then the grace, courage, and fortitude to claim that, be that, live that, and strive to be all that we can be -- well, it's not for sissies.  That's for sure.    


There's nothing I like less than acknowledging my humanness, my limitations, my realities.  I spend a great deal of life energy trying to overcome them, rearrange them to use to my advantage, or ignore them completely.  But in the end, they always win.  My humanness always wins.  


I think as I grow, I will begin to understand the value of claiming my limits sooner rather than later.  But today, as I sit here, what I know about me that I am a believer that if you sign up for something you complete it.  I am a believer in stick-to-it-iveness.  I am captive of that German heritage that marches on to the end, cost what it may.  


And then I'm not.  


Because in the same breath, I fashion my life anew.  Or maybe my life is renewed.  And it's a life that looks little like what I thought it might.  And it's a life I wouldn't trade for anything.  


As an aside, I found five pennies yesterday in five different locations, at five different times.  That's a record for this girl.  I'm not sure what the Universe was trying to convey to me -- and even if I had an inkling, I think it would be too personal to mention here.  But my penny finds felt hopeful and reassuring and surprising and delightful.  And I'm all for feeling like that.