The Confidence To Try

I've always kind of been an "all or nothing" kind of gal. Especially when it comes to athletics. Historically if I only have 30 minutes to work out - I am more likely to drop the project than to take advantage of the 30 minutes that I have. Because in my mind, "if I don't have an hour, then its just not worth it." Wow. It's one thing to live with that kind of attitude and blindly exist in parallel with it, and then its quite another to hit that mindset head on and realize for the first time that it actually isn't authentic for you.

In college, running was my go to. Always excited to get out and run for an hour or two, and really used that time as my sanctuary. It allowed me to feel grounded to handle stress and unexpected changes in my life, and kept me physically feeling structured, confident, and energized. I didn't realize how much I leaned on it until life gave me a good dose of perspective.

I started to experience pretty significant knee pain, to the point of tears over the stabbing like feeling that just wouldn't seem to go away. This was a loaded bag - there was obviously the physical pain of it all and wrapping my head around actually how much Advil I could take safely, and then there was the emotional realization that my one method of release (obviously my own doing) was gone at least for the time being.

I went in and got an XRAY of my knee to find out that I had a severely inflamed IT band and that I should stay off of it for a few months. Great. Now this, in retrospect (as it always goes) a blessing - because it forced me to try other things, which sometimes let's face it - we need. What I appreciated more than anything else was finally - the world was providing for me, but the only way I was at the time allowing the world to provide for me was by physically not allowing me to stay in my current groove. Rigid much?

So what did this mean then...are you really telling me that I'm going to have to start working out on an elliptical? What I began to do, was become introspective - and learn my edge. I had absolutely reached my edge of rigidity. I was uncomfortable enough where I was set enough in my ways that I was unable to take my blinders off.

So I started biking. And cross training. And swimming. And who knew...I was happier. So for a few months, I proceeded along this course really mixing it up, enjoying new things, and feeling like I was in the beginning phases of dating...myself. I was being introduced to new parts of myself - and for the first time in a long time, I had trust.

So a couple of years later, I moved to Boulder - basically having not run for over 900 days. WEIRD for me. But I realized something even stranger about this whole process as I had lived in Boulder for about a year: I was afraid to run. I was afraid of that pain that I felt. And I was terrified that I would have to be off the exercise forever.

About 6 months ago, I went out for a 5 minute run. 5 minutes. I have always prided myself on being a daredevil. I was the first to try hangliding in my family, went skydiving, scuba dove at extreme depths, and never had a problem! I was TERRIFIED to run. After that 5 minute run, I was relieved. I thought about it, and hadn't realized until that moment how terrified I was to try to run again. Day after day, I would add a minute. Now I'm pain free and able to put in 10 miles no problem. It was a journey that process, but as my insight for the day: always have confidence to try.

The Bigger Picture

I was having my way too infrequent meetup with one of my dearest friends on Sunday, and we got to the topic of really taking note of the bigger picture. It was so ironic that she had brought up this conversation, just her sharing her thoughts on what had happened in her life over the past year - and how it had or hadn't lined up with her intention, interest, and overall values. It was ironic because the couple of days before, I had really been in this space of feeling like I was missing MY bigger picture.

I feel like I am masterful at coming to the end of the week, having done basically exactly (with some exceptions) what I had done the previous week. Wake up, exercise, eat, work, eat, work, come home, do something fun but planned, bed, repeat. Not that any of that is bad by any means, it isn't what I try to communicate. But sometimes I feel like I get lost in my routine. It commands me and my energy in a pretty powerful way.

And I feel like my life ebbs and flows in a pretty habitual way as well with regards to seeing the bigger picture. I will live through my routine for an extended period of time, then there will be an event or conversation, such as the one I had on Sunday, where it will really come to my attention that I need to take a better look at the bigger picture. And then I will incorporate those elements into my day to day, really engaging with my overall desires and intentions for this life. Which are......?

Adventure, spontaneity, love, relationship, education, and enlightenment. Those elements are SO important to me - so how do I incorporate them? I get on my bike and explore trails that I've never been to in order to create adventure. I start saying "no" to invitations so that I can allow my night to be spontaneous. I hold a much higher intention to give my family/friends my 150% attention and energy and really communicate to them how much I care and love for them. I audit classes and attend lectures to stay educated and inspired. And I'm SO good at doing these.....for a period of time.

To me, the conversation that I had on Sunday was very important for me. Not only did I get to see one of my favorite women, but she keyed me into a part of myself that I didn't realize was so engrained. I am an excellent "big picture seeing and not seeing habitual offender." Meaning - I don't want to find myself looking back on my year wondering where it went. I want to look back on my year and see the elements that are so important to me being sprinkled all over my day like a caramel sea salt cupcake. How does one do that?

It is a promise to myself to live a big picture life. For it's the only one I've got.