what story do I want to tell?
I ran my first road race in 2016. It was a 10k, which is 6.2 miles, and it was the hardest thing I had done physically. I’d had to work through some significant obstacles and finishing that race was a significant accomplishment. I was generally active, but I was not fit and had low aerobic capacity from decades of smoking. My only goal was to finish, which I did, and so my life as a runner and an athlete began. This was also the beginning of my journey to a healthier relationship with my body - one that is still in progress.
I’ve always been active and I’ve always been competitive, but I had no interest in racing. I did not consider myself an athlete, just someone who wanted to stay in shape and like to move. Here I am 9 years later and now consider myself an athlete. In fact, it has become something that I identify as. For years this identity has seemed important, and my life has been organized around this identity. It has been a vital resource in managing and working with my anxiety. At 61 I am the healthiest I have been in 43 years. And not just physically health but also spiritually and emotionally healthy. It feels really good.
In tandem with this physical transformation has been a spiritual one that began with my mindfulness practice. What started as a way for me to manage anxiety and some associated unhealthy behaviors has become my practice. Mindful is now something I identify as. Learning to live mindfully has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Much like building my capacity as an athlete, it takes time and I’ve made lots of mistakes that were or felt like setbacks. There’s a critical difference – in competitive endeavors a mistake can end the sport. In mindfulness a mistake is just another opportunity to deepen the practice. It’s what really drew me to the practice – as long as I was practicing I couldn’t get it wrong.
Everything has the potential for a dark side though. My path of study has taught me that attachment is the root of suffering – a state of constant self-referencing and self/ego-identification. Even things that are deemed “positive” and “healthy” when there is an attachment. Identification as a thing is attachment.
Oops.
My summers for the past handful of years have been entirely organized around training and racing. I’ve really enjoyed it and have found tremendous camaraderie in racing as well as a newfound respect for my body. Last year I started to notice a decline in my enjoyment. Racing started to feel like one more thing I had to perform and what had once been goals to achieve started to feel like expectations to meet. A big part of my practice has been to lower the high-bar of expectations. You can see my dilemma.
Today I ran a half marathon race. It was a great race – the most enjoyable one I have run years. It wasn’t my fastest and due to an injury that I’ve been dealing with, there was discomfort. But I HAD FUN! I’ve enjoyed many races, but they’re not always fun. Today I was totally in the zone of my own race. There were a few times when I got in my head and started running with my thoughts instead of my body, but I was able to course-correct. I’ve run with injuries before and typically it is a battle of resistance between my body and my expectations. Sometimes I can meet my performance expectations, but it comes at a cost. Today I let my body lead the way, mostly because I had no choice but also because I decided it was the only way I was going to be able to finish the race. I am amazed and humbled by the difference this shift in perspective made.
During the race I kept coming back to my mindfulness practice and asking myself …what story do I want to tell about this race?
As a competitive athlete all stories typically revolve around time and finishing place. “How did you do?” is usually synonymous with “what was your time?” or “did you place in your age group?” I had a good 2+ hours to consider the story I wanted to tell. As I saw it, there were two options. One story was an explanation of why I didn’t do better and one of “qualifying” my performance. It sounds something like, “I did great, considering I was injured”. I could, and often do, frame my experience in relation to the expectations I set. The other story is one of what my experience actually was and sounds something like, “I had a great race! I listened to my body and stayed within my capacity. I pushed a little when I felt capable and backed off when needed. ”I finished the race with gas in the tank.” This story is framed in relation to my relationship with my body and the race that actually took place – not to the one I had created in my mind. Again, I am amazed and humbled. I am also grateful, deeply grateful for this practice and the gifts that it continues to bestow upon me.
The question that stands out for me – the one that I will continue to ask about anything and everything is “what story do I want to tell?” When I use this inquiry as the frame for any experience I have or any effort I undertake, I have the chance to choose joy, connection, and acceptance.
In other words, I can choose love as how I experience life.
