“I hope you will go out and let stories, that is life, happen to you, and that you will work with these stories… water them with your blood and tears and your laughter till they bloom, till you yourself burst into bloom.” – Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Alright, so nearing the end of the 100 days and I can still count the times I’ve slipped-up on 2 hands, so there’s that. I allowed for sugar-indulgences over the holiday weekends and at family dinners. I let the yoga mat sit unused a few times. I am okay with these slips.
But then there’s my running. My lack of running. My lack of serious 100-mile training. As opposed to last year, I am not using a coach or really using a plan at all this year in my prep for CCC100. Admitting that makes me hyperventilate a little. I am a planner, a list-maker, an OCD mile-tracker. Not this time. I thought “easing up” on the rigid training might help me. My “plan” has been to run a lot and run long. I’ve had some long runs in there, but not enough. I’ve done some run commuting, but not enough. I’ve done some back-to-backs, but NOT. ENOUGH.
Well, in a word: LIFE. I know there are people out there who can single-parent, work full time, pay the bills, run a household, maintain healthy relationships, attend every single one of their kid’s activities and never EVER arrive late….AND train for and run a 100 miler. Heck, I know women who do those things and run MULTIPLE 100 milers per year. (with a 200 miler thrown in). I am working my butt off trying to be that person. That mama. But I am constantly left with this feeling like I am simply not doing enough, nor am I doing any of these things WELL. That feeling is not inspiring. It’s exhausting.
In addition, I am trying to learn what it means to really truly blend lives with the man I love. This is real-life adult hard work. It is both overwhelming and wonderful. It’s an endurance event in itself and there is no finish line. I am in it & I am not DNFing this one.
I’m trying to remember this:
So where does this leave me, in terms of my race?
Lately I feel like every day I receive a huge new shipment of furniture from Ikea with the instructions missing. Where the hell is the f*cking MANUAL???!
I don’t know the answer & I don’t know how to make it all fit. I do know it is icky and messy and scary.
I know it won’t be a perfect race and I know I am not as prepared as I had hoped I would be.
I also know that I am strong & I know how to do hard things. This is my mantra.