I Can Do This Forever

I ran my first half marathon recently. It was difficult, but I've signed up for another one this fall, knowing that since I've already done some long distance training it will be easier to get up to 13 miles this time.

When I was a child I hated running. I always got a cramp in my side. When I breathed slowly and rhythmically like the PE teacher suggested, I would not get the cramp, but my body thought I was suffocating. It took a great deal of will power to continue breathing like that and override my body's urge to take great gulps of air.

It wasn't until I was out of graduate school and without access to a free gym that I even thought about running again. The thing about running, is that it is free, and you can pretty much just walk out your front door and start doing it.

I ran around a small track, slowly increasing my time, until I could run a mile without feeling like I was suffocating. Then I started running two miles, and then three.

When I first began running, I noticed that I spent most of the time wondering when I could be done. "Is it over yet? The torture? Can I stop?" I listened to audio books to take my mind off the time and this was a great diversion for a while.

A year or two ago I stopped doing that. I love audio books and still listen to them in the car. But I spend so much of the day plugged in that I really need my running time to not include electronic stimuli. And after a few years of running, I no longer spent the run wondering when I could stop. I could appreciate being outside, the green trees, the air I was breathing.

Then this January, thanks to my sister, I started training to run longer distances. And even on my long runs, I stayed unplugged. Long runs are hard, and I will admit to moments of "Can I stop yet?" But when that question comes up, I don't tell myself, "Just one more mile." Or, "Just 30 more minutes."

I tell myself, "I am fine. I am comfortable. I am doing this. And I can do it forever."

Because, in a way, I am doing it forever. I am doing it in this moment, and this moment is all that exists right now.

I stop thinking about a future reality that will be more comfortable. This is my reality. It is good, and I am totally managing it.

That is how I get through long runs. But I'm realizing it is how I manage other areas of my life as well.

My labor with Virginia, for example, was very intense. Every time I had a contraction I thought, "Okay. Okay. I'm surviving this. But I don't think I could handle any more pain." Then the next one was worse, and I survived that, too.

One of the things that got me through, (probably thanks to fantastic birthing hormones) was that I didn't once think about how long I had been in labor, or how much longer I would have to do it. I just accepted that, at that moment, it was my reality. As far as I knew, I could do it forever.

I actually had a harder time with Horatio's birth at the end because it wasn't that intense until the last hour or two and I did find myself thinking things like, "I won't have to do this for that long this time." Those thoughts made me impatient and distracted me from fully embracing my current reality.

As per usual, I find it easier to deal with physical challenges than emotional/psychological ones. So there is still a pretty major thing I need to work on "doing forever." It is just, life, I guess. My schedule.

I often feel "too busy." I have too many responsibilities and I do too many things. I long for the weekend, the summer, the end of a project, retirement (just kidding on that one...kind of).

But new "to-dos" always pop up and those less busy moments rarely come. When they do, I am tempted to fill them with other tasks, or I waste my time with something like TV and think, "Is this really the promised land I thought it was?"

Just like with Virginia's birth, I am constantly on the verge of calling "Uncle!" but I constantly learn that I can actually handle more.

I don't really have to run forever. I don't really have to be in labor forever (thank goodness!). But I probably will feel busy forever.

Don't worry. I've totally got this.