First off let me say, there is no magic pill for losing weight. There just isn't. You need to eat smart, and move your body. Period. And even still the weight doesn't just fall off. You'd think a gal like me who just added 3 runs a week to her life and a much smarter pattern of eating would be wasting away by now. Not so much. Especially irksome is that there is no way to determine where the weight comes off of first. I mean, don't get me wrong, I *love* that my wedding rings are loose and that my shoes are all too big, but one would assume that the "marmalade jelly" shakin' around my middle might fall off a bit quicker too. (Gold star to whoever can place that quote). Patience, dear Barbara, patience. And of course I'm not *only* running to slim down. No, no....there's all that "self-discipline, goal-setting, being proud of doing something hard" stuff too.
Okay, so back to the point of the post. My last running post mentioned there was a "part two" to the story and here it is. I've been *swamped* with emails from my devoted readers waiting with baited breath for the 'rest of the story'. (*snort*)
The question for me is this: What do I want to be the end result of this ridiculous 5km run I am attempting? I mean, this should be a no-brainer, right? Of course I want to finish and finish well. I want to have the big high-fives from some people that I love and to wear the groovy jacket knowing I earned it. Right?
What I'm finding is my wacko fears are really out-perfoming this time. Here are the two options I see in my future.
Option One: I can't actually run 5 kilometers with out stopping, regardless of my training, and on the day of I walk three-quarters of the race, showing up at the end like a great big failure, because really, didn't we all know, that Barbara is not an athelete in any stretch of the imagination, and told you so, she failed.
That would stink.
Option Two: I do fabulously. I run the whole thing in 30 minutes or less. I'm surrounded by people who are proud of me and who 'knew I could' and I have this momentary rush of elation that I really did do something that was outside of anything I've done before! And that sounds great, except the problem is that, what if then people (and by "people" I also mean "I") expect me to stay functioning at that level of bravery and hard-work and perseverance, and I can't sustain it? Then my future failure will be greater because I will have seemingly regressed farther than previous.
Does this make sense? A kid who always gets "C's" on his report card isn't going to be shocked by the occassional "D". No one wil be thrilled with a "D", but you know, it isn't too far off what we expect of him. However, if a straight "A" student comes home with a "D", well, "what were you doing? We expect more from you? You can do better than this! Why aren't you living up to your potential?" And the disappointment is that much greater.
Are you following me? I'm so lazy and so fearful of the potential for failure down the road that I hesitate to try to excel in anything.
Remember the story in the Bible of the Ten Talents? The master gave talents (that is coins) to his servants to work with while he was away. One worked well with the five talents he'd been given and ended up doubling it, to return 10 to his master. The servant who was given 2 talents worked them and doubled them to return 4 talents to his master. The third servant was given one talent. And he chickened out, or lazy-ed out and he just buried the talent in the ground to keep it "safe" and returned the same one talent to his master. He said "Well, I didn't want to try to work it and use it in case I lost the one you gave me so instead I just hid it. At least you didn't lose anything, Master."
He was not approved of by the Master, just so you know.
I don't want to be like that. I don't want to not do something for fear of what might happen if maybe down the road somewhere I sort of possibly fall on my face.
So the challenge for me at this point is to not only learn how to run 5 kilometers with out stopping, but also to learn that, as my pastor recently said in a lightning bolt moment for me, "there is such thing as failure with a purpose". Wow. Never thought of it that way. Failure always seemed to just be failure. Just bad. Just disappointing others. Just proving the lies in my head. Not so, slow-learning Barbara, not so. There is a point to trying. And there is a point to sometimes failing. It will be one of those things that the Lord uses to make me more like Him. I may do this race just fine. Or I may be the girl being carried on the stretcher for the last 2 km. Who knows? Either way, I need to give myself the freedom to fail, and the freedom to succeed. Because, presently, both are equally terrifying to me.
And thus, the awkwardly vulnerable and transparent post comes to its end. Thanks for stickin' around :-)