Stumbling on the finish line

One of my goals for 2010 is to run a half-marathon. 13.1 miles. I know I can do it, if I only dedicate myself to the training. Last fall, I was doing fabulously. I was running 4 and 5 miles a day, and once a week I would push myself and throw in a long run of 7 or even 10 miles.

It would take me the better part of two hours to complete the 10 miles, but boy, did it feel good when I was done! My legs all rubbery, my skin drenched in sweat. It felt like my body had just done something it was created to do. It felt natural.

Then Life decided to interfere. Except not really. Life happens everyday. We get dealt our fair share of problems and heartaches, along with the joy and the blessings. It is up to us how we play the hand we're dealt. In my case, I just decided to fold.

There were some major changes on the horizon, and my anxiety was mounting. I have always been emotionally high-strung, and most of the time I consider that a good thing. It allows me to be fully present in my life. But riding an emotional roller coaster can take its toll on a body.

And I do mean that literally: it takes its toll on a body. Food, especially junk food, candy, and sweets, is what I turn to when I want to numb out. When I want to get off the roller coaster and sideline myself for a while. When Life gets too overwhelming and I feel like I can't deal. Even when success is so close at hand I can almost reach out and touch it. Maybe especially then. Because after success, then what? Change, that's what! And change is scary.

So I folded. I stopped paying attention to what I was putting in my mouth. Trust me, if it's Chick-fil-a and Snickers bars on a daily basis, you don't WANT to pay too close attention! And all of a sudden, three weeks had gone by without a single trip to the gym. I was hiding in plain sight again, in my painters' overalls and my sweat pants. Days would come and go, indistinguishably, and I was numb. I was hiding. I wasn't dealing.

What snapped me out of it, I can't really say. Except I think I have a sort of internal alarm clock that goes off at a certain point. I believe it's no accident that each of the three times I've joined Weight Watchers, my starting weight has been 157 lbs. Give or take a few ounces. 157 seems to be my internal alarm clock's "code red".

This time, it was like I kept hitting the snooze button. Go to my Weight Watchers meeting? Nah. Not this week. Snooze. Get up early on a Saturday and go to the gym? I'll go later. Snooze. Order the fruit cup or the fries with my nuggets? If I don't say anything, they'll just give me fries. Snooze.

But who wants to snooze through life? Not me. So I'm back. I'm awake now. I am fully present and accounted for. These days, when I go to the gym, it's a struggle to run just 3 miles. I've lost ground. I was so close to the finish line, and I stumbled. But I did not pull myself out of the race.
I did not sideline myself and watch the other runners finish without me.

I am back in the race. And I'm winning.