Showing posts with label finding yourself. Show all posts
Showing posts with label finding yourself. Show all posts

Friday, February 17, 2017

Make Another Choice

A recent podcast about the five senses, introduced me to Isaac Lidsky, who at age 25, completely lost his vision. He was interviewed on the podcast and snippets of his Ted Talk were interspersed throughout the interview (link below). At the time of losing his vision completely, he recalls that he felt his life was over. He would never be able to do the things he wanted to do. Life as he knew it, was forever changed, and not for the better. Years later, with a law degree, law practice, and countless other achievements, he talks about how resolute he was in the belief that nothing good could arise out of his blindness. And how very wrong he was.

"To me, it's more about choosing what reality you want to live for yourself. So this really was the profound insight that really made losing my sight a great blessing in my life. I felt I was living a race against the clock, a race against time, a race against blindness until I decided to really take control of my own reality."

What I found most profound or enlightening about his insight was this: 
"whenever I felt afraid, I'd ask myself two questions - what precisely is my problem, and what precisely can I do about it? You know, I knew blindness was going to ruin my life [at 25], but that was a reality that I was choosing, that my mind had created for me, and I was choosing to believe. And I decided to make another choice."  
He decided to make another choice. Rather than following the pathway that places blindness as a deficiency, as something that is wrong or less than in comparison to having sight, he turned away from that narrative and chose something else. He identified his problem, and developed a solution. Sometimes, fear of the unknown controls us. We invent, speculate, and/or presume a variety of horrors will befall us when let fear reign. In our minds, fear of X is powerful and we give it credence over any other possible reality or outcome. We miss the less gloomy side of the coin: that the event, behavior, situation, or activity that we fear may actually bring us new insight, experience, and knowledge.

For Lidsky, going blind gave him vision, as he understands it. It allowed him to live with his eyes wide open in ways he had not been able to do when he had his sight. He shared his learning:
"See beyond your fears, they are your excuses, rationalizations, shortcuts, justifications, your surrender. Choose to see through them, choose to let them go. You are the creator of your reality. With that empowerment comes complete responsibility. I chose to step out of fear's tunnel into terrain uncharted and undefined."
His words and sentiments resonate with me personally as I continue on my journey of starting my own business, believing I can be a research and evaluation project lead, or being a competitive triathlete. The what ifs, fear of failure, and associated worry sometimes pushing me closer to giving up than I would like to admit. 

What Lidsky outlined about fear and choice is also relevant right now, today, in our current social, political, and cultural climate. Powerfully relevant. Fear of the "other" and its explicit reification in policy is at a peak. This fear is largely directed at non-white Americans, immigrants, and refugees. In particular, the fear (white) people have of individuals from Muslim countries, and Muslim Americans is taking over. Many, many people are choosing to believe that all Muslim people are a threat to their safety. They are not choosing to see through those fears to a reality that doesn't support this claim. They are invested in the bogeyman story in this context because it's easier to give in to a fear, than it is to make a different choice, as Lidsky suggests we do. This hyper-exaggeration of a perceived threat and the resultant narrative of fear, is leading to heinous and oppressive initiatives that many argue are indisputably unconstitutional. 

We each have choices. Our choices are different and complicated, and nuanced based on our identities and how we move through the world. And we still have choices about how we want to treat other people and be remembered. Choices about how and what we communicate or how we embrace challenge and change or eschew it. Lidsky ended his Ted Talk by quoting/paraphrasing Helen Keller: "the only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision." I think right now, many of us who can see, lack vision because we are blanketed in our fears of something we don't truly understand: "terrain uncharted and undefined." Embrace difference, make different choices, and open yourself up to alternate possibilities.



Ted Radio Hour, "The Five Senses" (Jan 19, 2017). Retrieved from http://www.npr.org/templates/transcript/transcript.php?storyId=510624029

Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Hang On

A couple of weekends ago, I broke through a running ceiling that had been hovering over my head for years: breaking 8 minutes per mile in a half marathon. I ran a 7:57 pace overall and a personal best by 4 ½ minutes. It felt great. Well, after the race it felt great, during, not so much. This race was more of a test of my mental stamina than it was of my physical abilities. I have run 8 minute miles over and over again in training. It is a pace I can absolutely sustain, and can go faster over shorter distances. But the half marathon distance has always been a block. It is the race distance I have completed the most and I know the distance well. Yet, despite practice, knowledge, and desire, I have always ended up on the wrong side of 8 minutes for every half marathon.
Two years ago, when I ran the same half, I managed an 8:19 pace (still a PB at the time). I could’ve gone faster physically but I didn’t believe I could – a culmination of injury memory and self-doubt. My inner dialogue was a back and forth of “I can”/”I can’t,” a tug of war between two arguing siblings. In disagreements, the loudest and/or most persistent voice often wins out. I distinctly remember early on in that race, saying to myself: “I can’t sustain this pace.” My 8:19 average was perhaps a self-fulfilling prophecy.
At this most recent race, I arrived resolved. At the start line, I noted the pacer for a 1:45 half marathon and stuck closely by until the last three miles. The sibling rivalry between “I can” and “I can’t” was still present, knocking on the door, the “I can’t” vying for my undivided attention. I am stronger than I was two years ago and I knew I could’ve run faster two years ago. My mind worked harder than my legs in this race. The miles ticked by, and with them, a 10 mile PR (sub 80 minutes!) and the realization I might actually achieve my goal. With 5k to go, I stepped up the pace. The last mile was hard. It undulates comparative to the rest of the race, meaning you really have to dig deeply to get through it. There was another woman, who had also stuck diligently to the 1:45 pace group leader for 10 miles. In the last mile, she pulled slightly ahead of me but waved me forward to join her side by side. “Come on” she said, “you can do it.” At that point, I didn’t think I could do it, my resolve was crumbling. The “I can’t” was beginning to take over as the stress began to increase. I tried really hard to shut the negative messages out by repeating “you can do it, you can do it” over and over and over to myself, focusing on her encouragement and on my coach’s advice to just “hang on.” My last mile ended up being a 7:33 (my fastest mile) and the oh-so-important “point one,” was a 6:30 average. I crossed the line in 1:44:29, a massive PR and with one smashed 8 minute ceiling.
What holds us back is often the stories we tell ourselves or that our culture and environment teach us. Finding ways to push back against those narratives, and write new ones for ourselves, is central to overcoming barriers in your training (or work, life, etc.) that can habitually stall you. Some people are great at this, others less so. I think I fit into the latter category but continue to try – this most recent “win” has certainly helped. As I prepare for my “A” race this September, my fourth half-iron distance triathlon, I have to remember this as I start my run. We get to write our own stories in these moments. We get to “hang on” if we choose to do so.

Sunday, June 19, 2016

The 5am Project

Since my last blog post about the need and desire to run in the morning, I have had moderate success. It's been a little under 4 weeks and I have been working at getting up at 5am or thereabouts so that I can get all my workouts done before the work day (or really, the heat right now) drags me down. My partner, whose idea the 5am Project was, has had less success. He downloaded an alarm app that is supposed to ease him to wake up but it didn't really work that well. He just generally sleeps through it.

Our attempts are also impacted by our senior dog who nearly always needs to go outside in the middle of the night. He stands by the door and whimpers, the kind of pathetic whimper that breaks your heart. I have never been able to sleep through it. My other dog, rarely needs to pee at night but will of course get up and bounce around outside while our other dog does his business. Continuously broken sleep is not conducive to early morning exercise plans. Nor are Mondays. Early on in this process, I found myself falling asleep at work. This, was of course not the intended outcome of this plan. The blame for my daytime tiredness does not rest solely at the feet of the 5am Project. It is compounded by not having a window, fresh air, or a standing desk in my new office. All things I was used to in my previous job. I had no idea that not having those elements in the workplace would have such an impact on my energy levels. I have seen a noticeable decline in my energy levels throughout the day. Combined with the earlier than usual mornings, midday nap time began knocking loudly on my door.

However, I have persevered with my plan. Last week, as the temperatures rose, I was deeply thankful I pushed through the snooze button and got my runs done early. I completed one after an open water swim and the other two I forced myself to get up, stay up, and go out. I still have not figured out a way to get up and run immediately, and take about 60 minutes acclimation time before heading out the door. But, I am heading out the door and in the right direction. It feels good to be done for the day before 9am; I feel so accomplished. I knew I would and this is one of the primary reasons coaches and runners alike argue athletes should workout in the morning.

I don't have any profound wisdom to share from this journey so far, other than to say it has been hard. When I know I am going to get up early, I stress about getting to bed earlier, and then have trouble falling asleep, my desire to hear my alarm clock infiltrates my dreams as anxiety. I infrequently sleep through an alarm, so there is rationally no reason to think I would start to do so now, yet the fear is there and I let it win sometimes. When it wins, my nights are fragmented dream/wake states that leave me feeling groggy and un-rested when the sun comes up. I know, or at least hope, I will find my rhythm and over time will adjust. I encourage you to try this too. I know it can be done by folks who have kids and folks who do not. I have read enough success stories to know that people with wide and varying commitments can pull this off. It is just a case of being thoughtful and efficient with the time you have and making choices that support the lifestyle change. Alarms, dogs, heat and any number of things can derail your plans. They may even appear to be conspiring against you, as though your inner night owl is throwing road block after road block your way in defiance of your new early night, early to rise routine. The key is not to let the set backs derail all plans, present and future. One poor night's sleep should not lead us each to the conclusion that morning running or exercise isn't worth the effort. When faced with a 6am 60 degree run vs a 6pm 90 degree run, I think the choice is pretty clear.

Saturday, May 28, 2016

Morning Running

For the longest time, I have wanted to be a morning person. More specifically, I have wanted to be a morning runner. I absolutely see the benefits of running in the morning:

1. You get your run done, and so as you fatigue from working all day, the workout isn't hanging over your head, glaring at you from its perch at 5pm.

2. It sets you up for the day. Running in the morning feels good. You accomplish something before 8am and it can put a pep in your step for the rest of the day.

3. Depending on where you run, it is beautiful - particularly if you see the sunrise.

4. It is cooler. This is very relevant right now as we edge into the summer months in Colorado.

And yet, despite these wonderfully compelling benefits, I have yet to maintain any kind of morning rhythm with running. I can get up early to swim and I have managed it with cycling, if I head downstairs to ride on my trainer indoors or if I am cycling to work. In both cases, I feel good, sometimes even great, after achieving an athletic goal that early. I know I will feel the same way with running as on the rare occasions I have run before work, I have felt awesome and accomplished.

I am not a "just get up and run" kind of runner. I need to eat something, and running 8 miles on coffee alone does not cut it. If I need to eat something, then I need to give myself time to digest said food before heading out for my run. That's at least 45 mins that I need before heading out the door, by which time I can usually convince myself to stay in bed. Then there is the stiffness I feel in the morning, and shaking that out into some kind of rhythm takes a fair number of miles. This adds more time to the run, which inevitably I never have because I snoozed too many times. And so I persuade myself that I won't have time anyway, and I might as well just stay in bed. You can see the cycle of excuses and justifications I can give for why morning runs don't work for me (unless it's a race, and then miraculously I can manage it).

In an effort to curb my morning snooze routine and the "I'll just do it later" voice in my head, I have read numerous articles from running gurus to personal blogs about tips to get up and out the door early. I have tried:

- laying my running clothes out at night
- getting my breakfast out and ready to reduce prep time
- determining a route the night before
- setting the alarm 15 minutes earlier so that I have time to snooze
- going to bed earlier
- gradually setting my alarm clock 5 minutes earlier over a period of several days so that I gently and incrementally get to the time I need

Yeah, even with these efforts, I have had minimal success. So what am I missing? I don't agree that some folks just aren't morning people, because I think it is all about shifting your lifestyle and making different choices over time (caveat: sleep disorders and other physical issues will factor in to one's capacity to rise early). I have clearly demonstrated I can get my butt out of bed for other forms of exercise and to race, and when I go to bed early, I am getting a good 7-8 hours of sleep. I am thinking it really is about my attitude and mental fortitude and perhaps, a socially constructed dislike of mornings. What did mornings ever do to me? 

Since tenacity is something I have been told I possess, I am going to try this whole morning running again, this time with feeling. And to reference my previous blog post, I am going to try and act "as if" I am a morning runner. I don't run every day but I do something most days, and I am going to endeavor to get all workouts done before 8am in the next month and report back in July as to how it went and what I learned. I will call it the "5am Project" and David, my partner in running and life is going to do it with me (actually it was his idea). Misery loves company, right? Although, this is going to be great, not miserable. Absolutely great! Positive attitude. Check. Got it. #icandothis...?

Wish us luck!