I ran a half marathon today.
It was the Sheffield Half Marathon. Not much of an endurance challenge, but definitely a challenge. The route itself started us in the middle of the city in Sheffield and took us all the way up and out to the Peak District before returning us back down into the city. One of my favorite things about living in Sheffield is that it is a great place to live if you are into any sport at all because the number of hills in and around the city provide for brilliant training ground. When I trained for the London Marathon, which was 26.2 miles on mostly flat terrain, my hilly training in Sheffield made the London course feel easy.
I’m currently training for a really massive endurance challenge that will take place in September of this year, it’s called Apex Everest—an event where I will be hiking up and down Hellvellyn (in the Lake District) 9.2 times, getting me to the total height of Mt. Everest (29,032 ft.), in 48 hours. The total distance I’ll cover is roughly 60 miles. I’m both nervous and excited.
I’m also daring myself to sign up for my next marathon. And am starting to train on the trails a bit more, so that I can shake myself out of my comfort zone of road running. Mix it up a bit.
Even as I write this I’m high-fiving myself, thinking “Yes, girl! Get. After. It!” But as I was running today I was reflecting on the times I said, “No, never,” to these types of activities.
When I was much younger, I used to laugh at the idea of running a marathon. I could never understand why someone would want to put themselves through all that. The suffering, the strife, the hours and hours of training and for what… a measly medal? Bragging rights?
Of course—As I’ve gotten older, my perspective has shifted.
On one hand, I’ve become more curious about what my body can endure. Every day teaches me more and more about how much I took my youth for granted. My ability to tolerate things—from disturbances to my routine to consuming rich food—decreases day by day. A late night out with a few drinks followed by a late-morning lie-in used to be no big deal—it was all part of the fun! But now I have to think about the cost of these activities before partaking. A couple of drinks or a few later-than-usual bed-times has become costlier to recuperate with age.
On the other hand, I’ve learned to really appreciate and be grateful for the opportunities I have to be alive, vital and able. When I was a teenager, I watched first-hand as my grandmother’s health deteriorated to the point where she lost her ability to live alone. The last five years of her life were spent with me and my family, and of course we were happy to help with her care (she was a wonderful woman); but it was painful to see her lose her independence. I know I have her stubbornly self-sufficient spirit, and I want to invest in and leverage that as much as I possibly can.
Then there’s the appreciation I’ve gained simply from losing so many people in my life that I loved—especially friends who departed far too soon for reasons streaming from leukemia to car accidents, drug overdoses and suicide. Grief is a great teacher that ensures you will eventually appreciate even the hardest moments, because what a blessing it is to even be here breathing in this bubble of atmosphere on this earth—with great people (and pets) available to you for friend- and fellowship. Grief guarantees the lessons from struggles, pains, gains, wins, and/or losses are never lost on you.
And here I find myself saying, “Yes,” to endurance challenges of all sorts:
Writing a weekly newsletter—endurance
Renovating my house last year—endurance (omg, the endurance)
Running a marathon—endurance
A sprinkling of half-marathons—endurance
Training for an everest challenge—endurance
My career—all of our careers—endurance
All of these activities bring with them a little pain and a lot of gain.
The thing is—Endurance is a human truth, it is a reality we all face up to. We endure relationships and the many malestroms within them, the mountains and valleys of our careers, the wavering spectrum of success, and the endless search for ourselves in a world that is constantly telling us who it thinks we should be. We endure through all of it—we fail, we make mistakes, we renegotiate, and sometimes we make great strides. Endurance is a reality we all face.
Marathons and mountain hikes are similes for the lived experience. I say, “Yes,” to them now because of the safe microcosm it allows me to operate within. A space where I only need to control myself, my body, my mind and see what happens. I’m not trying to win Olympic medals, I’m only competing against myself. And with each event I remind myself that worst that can happen is I have to walk some of it, or I don’t finish for some reason. Oh well!
Motivation
The biggest challenge any act of endurance puts on us is motivation. It can be incredibly hard to find it within ourselves to keep going when so many things are against us.
One key way to generate more motivation is through connection and accountability. Bringing other people in to what we’re doing, interacting with others, sharing our stories, and inviting people into our process are all ways to increase motivation.
Writing this weekly newsletter actually provides me with a sense of accountability and motivation; sharing the fact that I plan on doing an Everest challenge gives me a similar sense of motivation. It lights my fire and keeps me going.
My friends, family and colleagues are chief supporters and cheerleaders for all of the activities I take on. And every week I encourage my introverted self to go out into the community and partake in some kind of larger group activity—from meditation groups to Park Runs or art classes. Sometimes I’m just there as a silent participant in a larger group; other times I’m sharing my story. Both make me feel a little more buoyant and motivated.
What could you use more motivation for right now?
What challenges are you facing? What motivates you? Share in the comments below.
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