Fear and the Wall

Realizing there are less than six weeks to go before Derrick and I jet off to our mysterymoon has pushed me back into frequent workout mode. You may have noticed the last few posts focusing on this more than other topics, and with good reason. 

I have dearly missed running and working hard. I hit the treadmill this winter irregularly at best and started the spring off with a yellow fever vaccination that took over nearly four weeks of my life leaving me with no energy to do anything at all. And now, here we are. Just six short weeks from one of the biggest adventures of our lives, and I find myself needing to confess: I'm not ready. 

As I ramp up the run mileage, and the additional workouts, and hopefully soon some swim miles, I am made fully aware daily of my own human limitations. I feel frustrated. I feel defeated. I feel afraid. 

In the running world, there is an analogy that nearly all runners know and know well: the wall. In an endurance race, it is the point at which you feel like you can't go on, like you want to quit. The point at which you are frustrated, defeated, and yes, afraid. I have met the wall. But I wasn't really aware that the wall was more than just a point in a race. For me, it has become a point in my training. As I work to make up the deficit of all that was lost this winter and spring, which after counting the costs so far, was A LOT, I have come to a point in my ramp up where I have been left to face a mighty wall. Right now, training is not fun. It is not enjoyable in any way. It hurts. I'm frustrated. And I want to quit. 

The mighty wall is decorated with nothing except ribbons of my own fear. They cover nearly the entire surface of the wall, with just enough room for pain, frustration, and defeat to show through. But if I am honest, it's the fear that I see. 

Now, this might sound like crazy talk to some, and I accept that for what it is, but I have dreams. Dreams of becoming a serious athlete. Maybe I'll never be a Chrissy Wellington (my personal IronMan superwoman inspiration), but I believe that I could be a competitive age grouper, that maybe I could even win some races. But I also know that standing between the current me and the competitive athlete me is not just the wall I stare at today, but many, MANY walls, each laced with fears, anxieties, pain, frustration, and defeat. 

Why in the world would I want to put myself through this again and again? It sounds downright torturous. And maybe, to some extent, it will be. But I am learning why I might want to face these walls, even this one now. Courage. The only way to knock down the wall of fear in front of me is to face it head on with courage. How does one acquire more courage? By taking down more walls of fear. And where do walls of fear come from? Doing the hard things that cause the walls to show up in the first place. 

Walls remind us of our humanity. Our own weaknesses and limitations. Those things exist. People facing walls have two choices - stop when they arrive at the wall, acknowledge their weaknesses and limitations and accept them as fact OR breathe courage deep into their lungs, refuse to accept the weaknesses and limitations as truth, and hulk-smash the wall into a pile of rubble, stronger and more courageous than before.

Today, I choose the hulk-smash. Today I choose to breathe deep the courage required to keep going. I will not believe that what I have done today is all I can do. There is so much more in store for me, and it's waiting just on the other side of this wall.