Today was kind of a hard day, and it was definitely a hard running day. I've actually had a string of days that have been a little challenging. When it gets like that for me it really bleeds into running; it really bleeds into my belief in myself as a runner. My coach was very supportive, and reminded me that just showing up on days like today and putting in an honest effort is a big win, and I agree, that's true. I didn't have to crawl during my interval session today--well, not physically--but the session felt like this quote. Long story short: it was a fight.
So I came home to write today's post. I am more than half way done on this writing challenge, which means I'm getting down to the bare bones with these calendar pages that are left. It's a pretty concentrated positive message board up on that wall. It was to begin with, but boy do they stand out on nights like this.
I was looking at Instagram after dinner and a post popped up--I don't know how all of that works, it wasn't something I follow. It was kind of funny though, the gist of it being it's a negative take on the positive outlook posts. The general theme was that life is disappointing and each post is a quote that starts off as if it's going to be positive and then it goes dark. Not dark exactly, more like on a spectrum ranging from cynical to Debbie Downer. The one that popped up caught my eye and it was pretty funny, so I went and looked at the page. I scrolled through about 20 posts; they were all pretty funny and very clever. But amazingly I quickly started to feel myself dropping--losing energy. Within a matter of a minute it went from funny to numb, like a good spinal block for the soul. And it hit me like the experiential learner that I am: Thoughts. Do. Matter! They matter like maybe nothing else in the world. I could not believe how quickly my feelings sank, and it took me a minute to figure why. To be exact, it took me scrolling over 20 posts to recognize that OH! These seemingly harmless sort of negative, funny posts are making me tank! Holy shitski, it really works! Words and thoughts pack a wallop. Who we surround ourselves with, what we surround ourselves with, what we listen to, read, and most importantly what we repeatedly tell ourselves absolutely shapes and predicts how we think and respond to life.
How f**king humbling is that? And hopeful?
So I'm sitting here typing out this post because I told myself I would 46 days ago. Words matter. Be impeccable with your word. (don Miguel Ruiz).
My wall just took on a new meaning, and I'm super grateful for all of the positive, encouraging words pulsing up there. I sleep by those words. I write under those words. I get ready for the day and wind down for the night with those words watching over me.
So I'll run when I can, walk if I have to, crawl if I must, stop for a breather, or have a good cry, but I'll never give up.