In the beginning of 2017, I set myself some goals. I hadn’t looked back at them in a while, maybe not since writing that post six months ago.
How am I doing at the half-way point?
The big goal–the public writing goal–has been a failure. I’ve journaled A LOT. In fact, I’ve filled up another two Moleskine books, but I’ve let this space languish. I lost momentum in Cuba in part because I got sick (as it turns out, writing and barfing are not good multi-task partners), and in part because I was mostly offline while traveling since wifi connectivity was scarce and everything else was really expensive.
The rest of my goals have been more successful. I’ve been consistent with yoga and core-work, though I could be better wth the latter. I could be better with my diet–particularly the vegetables, and if I do go for another marathon, I’m going to have to make some changes. I probably should anyway. I’m getting away with things right now, but I need to consume more plants.
I’ve lost sight of the goal that is most important to me: “Cultivate discomfort and change as opportunities for growth. Reject the false security of inertia & stasis.” I’ve been doing it, and particularly since the semester has ended and the summer has begun, I’ve felt discomfort, but I’ve lost sight of the growth potential and the emphasis on cultivation. I write this from a place of change and discomfort amidst familiarity and routine both literally and figuratively. The contradictions are wearing on me, the continuous negotiations of boundaries take energy, lots of it as it turns out. I’m sure that there must be some wonderfully protracted German word for this, but it eludes me. In American, I suppose it would be called something like “adulting.”
My running continues to go well. I feel lucky to have enjoyed a good spell of late (how much I wanted to say that I’ve enjoyed “a good run” but I can’t bring myself to say that except parenthetically. It’s both too punny, and I’m too superstitious). I’ve set not one but two PR’s in the half-marathon, coming down over 2 minutes from early 2014 as well as additional PRs in the 10k (Cooper Bridge Run) and the 15k (Biltmore). Part of me wonders what I could do if I ran a 10k or a 15k that weren’t so’ hilly.
I’m contemplating another marathon, but something is keeping me from pulling the trigger. Not something–let’s call it by its name: Fear. Fear of failure. Fear of injury. Fear of committing to a Big, Scary Goal. I need to remember that I have really loved marathon training when I’ve done it before. Even when it was hard, even when it hurt (and the training cycle for Paris hurt All The Time)–I loved it. And it’s really not all that different from the running that I’m doing now: the weekly mileage is in the same range, and I’ve done the workouts before, though some of them have been more recent than others. So maybe it’s time to #WomanUp, to be brave again, to go wheels up again, to go for the so-far elusive BQ standard.
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