I usually make a long, eclectic list of moments which made the year for me, but this year I want to focus on one thing, one thing which will seem trivial given all the other enormous life changes I’ve been through this year.
The one small thing is learning how to run.
I decided one day to get up and do it. With new demands on my time, the primitive act of putting one foot in front of the other in the early mornings seemed the most efficient way to keep active and strong.
I quickly learned that despite the heavy weights I can lift, running is a whole other ballgame. Cardiovascular fitness and endurance are different than the explosive muscular strength I use to push the bar up. Plus lifting weights played to my strengths (pun intended) — it was pleasurable. I’m short, so physics works in my favour.
But running is really, really hard for a short-limbed, muscular woman who enjoyed the gratification of lifting heavy things, but is not convinced about running around in circles in a park.
Something happened, very early on, where I realised this commitment (I decided to follow the Couch to 5K programme to the end, no matter what) and the possible fitness habit it was setting me up for is just like everything else in my life which has value. It’s hard. It tests me in all ways. When I dedicate myself properly, it feels great. It makes me a better person, in one way or another.
We can enjoy a great number of things, and sample different vocations and relationships and lifestyles and cultures but ultimately it is only hard work, dedication and loyalty (to people, values, and goals) that make any positive contribution to one’s life. I have dozens of great party anecdotes about peculiar things and exotic places I’ve experienced, but the most important topics I usually don’t even discuss. There are things that are too profound but also too boring to share with a half-interested acquaintance: the stuff of your everyday life as you have constructed it around you.
Running a few kilometers in the dark three times a week is surprisingly enjoyable and hard at the same time. Strangely, while running, I sometimes feel sharply emotional. I often feel physically spent, plodding and clumsy, but my inner voice chooses that moment to rejoice with “I’m doing this!”, while my brain and heart reel at this fact. I’m not talking about it, or putting it on the to do list. I’m doing this. I’m doing this. I don’t look like a graceful gazelle. I’m doing this, goddamnit.
It is imperative. Pick things that matter — that make yourself better or are in service to others — and even if you are the least likely candidate to succeed, do it instead of just talking about it.
To motivate myself further, I take a selfie every time I run. Sometimes they are beautiful images. Sometimes the effort I’m putting in is apparent. The selfies are tokens, souvenirs of sorts, from each time I start the day with fidelity to this mission, one of many missions I’ve taken on in my life.
Wishing you utmost fidelity to your mission for 2016.
2 replies on “2015 was…”
Hey K,
Check out Tim Ingold’s book on Movement. I think you will find it really beneficial to your PhD studies and your newly found endeavour!
Ingold, T. 2011 Being Alive: Essays on Movement, Knowledge and Description. London: Routledge.
I love this post. I am glad I clicked on your pantone gradient, it got me to a good place. Also I just started doing weight training with a coach and the thing that surprised me was how little impact it has on my cardio. Like, I can feel super strong, but running doesn’t improve at all. Bodies, they are so mysterious. Happy New year to you and Douglas and your bebe.