When
reflecting on how to report on my first race of 2013… the year I will become an
Ironman, and the year I will overcome years of mental weakness, I’ve tried to
think of how I could equate the experience to real life. And I think I've got it!
My first
race of the year was very cold, sunny, and snowy. Having never used snowshoes,
and not owning a pair myself, Kermit decided we would race the Park City
Snowshoe Stomp in sneakers. Piece of cake, I figured. On my birthday, I ran
9.62 miles! I remember this time last year when I could barely make it two
miles around an indoor track. And Kermit hadn’t done jack in about a month, so
I knew I could leave him in my snowy dust. Ah, when will I ever learn?
Not ever
having been a beach bunny, I didn’t know what it was like to run in the sand,
nor did I know the difficulty of that equaled running in the snow. I took off
at a pretty normal 9 min pace, passing a few of those silly people in their
snow shoes. I even got a tiny bit ahead of Kermit. But after the first mile, my
legs and ankles were so tired, I didn’t know how much further I could actually
run. Kermit was so far ahead, I could only see him off in the distance before
he headed around the next curve. This was hard! My feet couldn’t find the
solid, hard pavement they were used to, so they kept slipping and
sliding from under me. It took twice the effort to keep my balance, and twice
the effort to run. So much for keeping a positive attitude during a race, I
thought to myself. This sucks. I kept trying to combat those negative thoughts
with, but think of the amazing workout you are getting by doing this!
By the
time I’d finished, I was so discouraged that it was difficult to keep the
negative thoughts at bay. When Kermit asked, wasn’t that fun? I sadly shook my
head no. More than anything, I felt like I’d failed myself and my goal to keep
a positive attitude during a race. I had depended on
my mental success in Palm Springs, and my increasing mileage, to be a shoe-in
for the snowshoe race. Despite the fact I came in 1st place in my
division – I was the only one in my division – I was disappointed in myself.
This past
week, I’ve had a few lessons on co-dependency. From everything I’ve read about
this term, it is always a bad word with negative connotations. Something one
does not want to be accused of being. But it was explained to me in a different
way this week: co-dependency occurs when a person is so concerned with how
their actions/words/deeds make someone else feel, that they change their
actions based on what they assume would be true, if they acted in a particular
way. The first fallacy of this of course is that one can’t begin to assume how
someone else will feel. Secondly, while it’s good to be mindful of others, and
not deliberately do things to harm them, we can’t always concern ourselves with
someone else’s feelings. What we need to focus on is whether what we are
doing/saying is right in the eyes of God. If we are, and they get their
feelings hurt, that is between them and Heavenly Father, not us.
If we
worry too much about hurting others, we ourselves will never be happy, because
we will set such a high standard of perfection for ourselves, in order to keep
everyone else happy, that we will be miserable. The other problem is that we
are setting ourselves up for failure. Most of us are hard on ourselves already.
So if we automatically start assuming anything we do might hurt someone, we
will always be down on ourselves, always playing the victim role, and we may
have a few freaking-out sessions, which ultimately do what we were trying to
avoid in the first place – make others angry or upset.
So what
does that have to do with running in the snow?
All of my
training the past month or so has focused on making others happy. Not running
too fast so that my heart doesn’t act up. Making sure my form is perfect so my
feet, ankles, and knees don’t hurt. Running longer distances, with hills, so
that I can perform the hard legs of next month’s Ragnar with ease, so I don’t
let down my team mates. And even increasing my mileage, and not focusing on
sprinting, so that when Kermit and I really start training for Ironman, I can
keep up with him and not let him down. Let me clarify though... remember part of co-dependency means you assume how others feel. So, my thinking Kermit has certain expectations for me is part of that. He's always proud of me after a race, always tells me how good I do, always encourages me when I'm struggling. Yes, he pushes me because he knows I can do it. But my concern about disappointing him comes from me, not from him.
While all
these things have probably been preparing me physically, and aren’t necessarily
a bad thing, mentally, it blew up in my face when I was met with something
unexpected. Instead of zeroing in on
making sure I am feeling good, feeling happy, and just listening to my body and
mind as one entity, I had only focused on physical aspects. So mentally, I wasn’t
prepared for running in the snow. I hadn’t trained myself to run this race
because I love running and because it makes me happy – I’d trained to not let
my ankles, knees, heart, or Kermit down (based on my own unrealistic standards). I should have trained myself to just go
out there and enjoy the race, no matter the conditions, no matter my pace, no
matter how I did in relation to Kermit, but to just focus on how it makes me
feel to know I am doing something I never have before, and because I know that
exercise is a good thing, and my Heavenly Father approves of my taking care of
myself by getting some exercise. Forget that it’s a race. Just have fun.
I think in
this case, I was being co-dependent on myself and on others. If my heart,
knees, ankles, feet are all happy, I’ll be happy. If Kermit is happy with my
race, then I’ll be happy. If the conditions are perfect – not too cold, good
solid grip, then I can be happy and enjoy the race.
And that’s
where I went wrong. And where I’ve been going wrong in my personal life for
years. I’ve thought if I could be perfect enough, everyone would be happy with
me, and I wouldn’t make anyone mad at me, and then I could be happy, because I’d
know I’m loved. Over the years, I've especially tried to avoid making people angry at me and having them yell at me. But it doesn’t work that way. Because the truth is, I’m not
perfect. And sometimes, I’m going to make people mad. Or sad. Or frustrated. And
sometimes, people won’t love me. And that scares me. A lot. It’s a bigger fear
than learning to swim.
But if I
stop worrying about having perfect form, perfect race conditions, and pleasing
Kermit, then I’ll enjoy my race. And I’ll be happy. Even if my knee hurts the
next day. Even if I don’t finish as fast as I wanted to. And even if I totally
beat Kermit (and make him a little mad at me, lol).
It’s the
same thing with life. If I stop worrying about being perfect, of not offending
or hurting or making anyone mad at me and stop worrying that they'll abandon me even if they do get mad at me sometimes, if I stop worrying about whether people
will stop loving me if I mess up, because I know Heavenly Father loves me, and
that’s enough, then I really will be happier. Because He is perfect, and has
perfect love for me. I know if I accept that, then He can fill me with His
love, and then I can simply love others. And I won’t just be happy, but I’ll
find joy in life and in serving others.
Oh, and by
the way, I won a pair of snowshoes at the end of the race… I’ll be prepared
next time!
