It’s May and the date for my race is coming faster than I ever anticipated.
I’ve never been a runner. I’ve always been quite proud of the fact that I don’t run and have often spouted the words, “If I’m running then you better too because something is chasing me.”
But now I’m choosing to run.
To prove to myself that I can.
To combat the disease that is trying to control me.
To challenge myself and the mindset that I have.
I could do all these things by choosing something other than running. I don’t enjoy running. I don’t get a ‘runner’s high.’ I’m not even losing weight despite watching my diet and running consistently.
But still I run.
There is something powerful about doing something even when your mind and your body tell you you can’t do it. Every time I pull on my running shoes I have to battle the voices in my head that tell me I’m too fat, too old, too infirm. I have to combat the voices that tell me people are laughing at me. I have to battle against the shame I feel when a faster, slimmer, fitter person runs past me.
But still I run.
I could choose to give up. I haven’t committed to anything. I haven’t spent money or booked my spot. I could simply just decide not to go ahead with it. I have enough excuses. I’m too old. I’m too unfit. I’m sick.
But I choose to run.
I choose to prove to myself that if I can do it, even if it hurts, even if I’m embarrassed, even if I’m slow.
It’s not about crossing the finish line first, but it is about crossing the finish line. It is about sticking it out and pushing myself out of my comfort zone. It is about putting one foot in front of the other and completing this journey even if it is just to prove I can.
So, I’m choosing to run…even when I don’t want to.