Surprise! You're stronger than you thought you were!

It's no secret that I've had a bit of a rough year. I believe in the yin & yang of life and that, like it or not, we all must take our lows with our highs. But as it turns out some of our lows prove to be a whole lot lower than others, some more persistent, and some just leave us down for the count. I think a lot of us, we psychologists especially, like to talk about how these lows make us stronger people... we love stories of redemption... like the image of the phoenix rising from the ashes. But when the (excuse my language) sh&* actually hits the fan, we'd rather not have to endure them. Because true lows aren't 'quick & easy' weekend projects that can be neatly mended. When faced with true lows, we can find ourselves in the dark. Grasping for some control, we can lose touch with what we know is true and begin to believe our worst fears about ourselves. To make it through, we have to face the uncomfortable fact that we must change-- even or especially when we don't want to.

Turns out I hate change. I resist it with everything in me. And dealing with all of the changes that inevitably came with trying to heal my body over this past year has taken a greater toll on me than I initially recognized. I cringe to admit this, but this past year I began to hate my body... I thought of myself as weak. I felt like my body was failing me. I wondered what was so wrong with me that I couldn't feel "normal" & "healthy" like my other carefree twenty & thirty-something friends? On the outside I reassured everyone that "this too will pass," but on the inside I was flirting with hopelessness. I just didn't feel like myself. So I wallowed. I moped. And I shut down a little more each day. What I didn't realize at the time was that those debbie downer thoughts about my body were breaking my spirit and making me sicker. The more angry I felt towards my body, the more I resisted change... and the harder it was for my body to heal itself.

But I did what I could to get through. I took on new challenges, especially physical ones. The more physical the challenge, the better to distract me from feeling crummy. I poured myself into yoga. I learned to ski. I signed up to run a half marathon. I took on projects and cooking and blogging and whatever I could to get by. I leaned on Danny... and I leaned on him some more.

And strangely enough, life continued on like this. Days went by... good days and not-so-good ones. Highs and lows. In retrospect, life seemed to mimic my marathon training... or vice versa, I'm not sure. Some days I couldn't get my running shoes on fast enough, while other days I felt like I was running through mud. But everyday I got up and pushed myself through... to the next day... to the next run.

I didn't really expect running to change me. I guess at one point I had hoped it would, but going into the 1/2 marathon last Saturday morning, the last thing I was thinking about was redemption. Given how crummy I had felt the night before the race, I was honestly just hoping to get through it. But maybe that's what made it so powerful- that I didn't see it coming.

Maybe it had something to do with Peter Gabriel's Solsbury Hill playing at the starting line (I love that song!)... or maybe it was the hearty oatmeal I ate that morning, or the unshakable faith my husband seemed to have in me... whatever it was... taking those first few steps, something just felt different. Even though I wasn't feeling 100%, I somehow felt so grounded and in control. My breathing was steadier than usual. My body felt strong but loose, light but sturdy. Each step naturally followed the one before. I absorbed the energy of the runners around me and I found, for the first time in a long time, that I was feeling at home in my body! I had caught glimpses of this in training, but never had running felt so good, so natural. Even my wonky left knee and little blips of feeling funky couldn't get me down. Something had just clicked and I started to feel like myself again... or maybe even better.

So I actually thought for sure that I would want to give you all a play-by-play, mile-by-mile account of the race (you know me). But a week later, only one thing really seems important to say about that day... and that is that I have never, in all my life, felt so powerful. I have never felt so strong and proud and grateful for my body. After all of the doubting and frustrations, I have never believed with more certainty that my body is strong enough to heal itself... but that luckily, it doesn't have to. Because it turns out that just beginning the work, in taking those first few steps of running or healing or whatever, we invite something bigger to work through us too. I can't even explain what happened to me on race day, how I managed to run those first 10 miles without walking... but I can say that I was grateful to find that regardless of where I'm at in my spiritual journey, God showed up for me that day-- in my breath, my steady heartbeat, the wind on my back, the collective energy from the runners around me. I was met halfway. And I was reminded that we are capable of enduring and overcoming more than we think we are because there is something bigger at work in all of us. Lord knows there will still be tough days, or long miles, but we are strong enough. If we push ourselves and have a little more faith in ourselves, we can make it through. And I don't mean suffer through... I mean finding some peace and joy in every minute of it.

So surprise! I guess I'm stronger than I thought I was. Getting back in touch with my own strength, even if just for those few hours, was the most important thing I could do for myself right now. It's a feeling I won't soon forget and will always be thankful for. I guess this experience had made me a runner for life now... sorry knees!

Thanks to everyone for all of the support and encouragement in this process, and for allowing me to write an intenser-than-usual (I know that's not a word) posting. I especially want to thank Josie for being there on the sidelines (I cried with happiness the whole 12th mile after seeing her) and of course my husband, who continues to have more faith in me than I understand and constantly reminds me that I am strong enough. I guess you were right, D.

rockin' my bling.

with my proud hubby.

the best sight ever.

enjoying my first donut in months. yes, it was delicious.