RUNNING AND MOTHERING - gratitude mantras

I used to have this idea that I was supposed to be a runner,

that running was the penultimate of physical fitness

and was somehow necessary to live a healthy life.

That if I could easily run three miles, 

then there would be a reward of some sort-

an invitation to secrets of the universe or

 the ability to eat unlimited quantities of pie.

That other things in my life would fall into place.

That I would morph my physical being into something else,

become ropy and lean with boy hips.

This is irrational and ridiculous-

I'm not quite sure where the programming originated

but it definitely was on repeat in my subconscious.

I should mention...I hated every second of running.

I used to have a standard mantra about running.

Brace yourself...it's profound.

Pretty enlightened and uplifting right?

This wasn't something I said OUT LOUD

but instead was a slow, steady undercurrent 

present during all running related experiences.

From the stretching as I warmed up, 

to the anxiety approaching the preset start time,

through the pounding of my feet as I huffed along

my scheduled, mapped out route.

Running sucks.

When I went to buy shoes, 

pulled on workout gear, 

or looked at fitness apps.

Running sucks.

I could not get into a breathing rhythm, 

I never experienced a runner's high and

I could be easily distracted (while running)

about my stats (or lack of them).

Whether I could run 1 mile or 5 miles easily...

my message to myself was..
running sucks.

It's funny how we can distract ourselves with shorthand

from what we really mean.

That mantra contained a slew of subconscious beliefs.

I was saying RUNNING SUCKS as short hand for:

I'm too slow, 

too fat, 

too sweaty, 

too breathy, 

too old.

Uncoordinated.

Awkward.

Graceless.

Not enough.

Don't belong.

None of these things are factual or grounded in truth.

They all speak to some fear that lurks in the shadows;

to shame around my body and my worth.

They are bullshit and harmful and exhausting

little bits of poison that need healing.

Let me offset my attitude towards running with my attitude 

towards something much less available:

Childbirth.

Childbirth is not for the faint of heart.

I've delivered two children and endured approx. 30 hours of labor

all while weighing significantly more than my usual weight

and unable to touch my toes.

I am pretty damn good at breathing into pain.

Clearing the deck and busyness of my mind

pulling in energy

releasing what has to go.

In and out

for hours.

It does not suck.

The pain and the discomfort are inconsequential.

I can rattle off the number of hours I was in labor,

the crazy things that my body did

and the times where the pain was intense.

My body was tired, hypertensive, and incredibly uncomfortable

and yet....it suited up for battle with more clarity than I ever had 

getting ready for a run.

I didn't think

I'm too old, too fat, too slow, too breathy.

Not once.

What I remember is the incredible joy

and fascination at the experience.

I remember my heart expanding exponentially

in new ways each time.

I remember loving their father in new dimensions

for having witnessed and participated in the grueling battle.

I remember feeling strong and focused and aware

that this was the work I was put here to do.

In and out.

You can do this.

Oh right, yes I can.

I didn't have children to get thin

or to fit into a set of jeans

or to look cool

(which is good because it did the opposite of all things).

I didn't have children to fit in

or become part of a club.

I became a mother for me.

For my growth, for my fullness, for my JOY.

In some ways, it was a very selfish choice-

in other ways, it wasn't a choice at all, it was something 

that was inevitable and necessary and essential to my soul.

From the age of three, I remember the calm 

certitude that I was going to be a mom.

(women, we are terrifying from an early age-never doubt it).

The means was not important (adoption, natural, IVF, etc),

my marital status was not important,

my economic circumstances were not important.

I was going to make it happen, 

it was a foregone conclusion, it was a part of me.

I knew it would work out

in whatever manner it was supposed to work out.

Parenthood is much longer than 3 miles. 

This is a marathon job-not a sprint.

My goal is to remain in relationship with each of my children 

for the rest of my life so our journeys together

will continue to unfold.

I've barely just begun so I can't say I know all the twists.

What I can say is that I've never thought THIS SUCKS.

Not when someone threw up on me or handed me a booger,

not when I have been sleep deprived for a year

not when we've just had a terrible tantrum (mine or theirs)

or when struggling with homework or school politics.

Being a mom is awesome, grueling, debilitating, 

and the best gift I've ever received.

My subconscious mantra around motherhood is 

THANK YOU.

So let's revisit running for a minute.

I have a whole new relationship with running 

since I've become aware of that old mantra.

Turns out, running is something that I can do

and I actually enjoy.  

When I remember that the way to get through 

hard things is to breathe into them.

When I focus on something other than 

the pain or expectations.

When I run for JOY instead of a reason to belong.

I let go of my list of reasons and prescription for running.

I just run when I feel like running.

I go as fast as I feel like

and I stop when I feel like stopping.

I do it for me and the whole time I say THANK YOU.