Re-Writing the Narrative, With Compassion

 Old stories die hard.  This is what was running through my head as I sat on my bike trainer the other morning.  I have started marathon training for a race in the spring, and on this particular morning was scheduled to be out on a 5km run.  And had planned to do it despite the fact that we were entering a cold snap that brought -20 degree celcius temperatures that felt (apparently) closer to -27.  I knew that this was the forecast and yet I set out my running gear the night before and decided that I needed to do the run the next morning, that it was only a short one and that I'd be out and back in no time and before any negative side-effects could set in....and just to set the record straight, I am sober so these thoughts were not brought on by any "helpers" the night before.

I woke up and checked the weather and yes indeed, it was still frigid out.  I saw a warning about the potential effects of being outside and thankfully some bit of common sense poked its way into my brain and I decided that instead of risking frostbite I could sit on my trainer and reap actual training benefits.  Thankfully the common sense plan won and there I was an hour later, pedaling away.

As I rode I felt a mix of feelings - happy that I was not outside in the cold, and also disappointed in myself for wimping out.  I mean, I own a lot of winter running gear so logically I felt that I could likely have done the run and been "fine" and also felt that I would have been likely to do that a few years ago.  So what has changed?  Am I really a wimp now?  Have I become soft in my old age?  I am no longer hard core?  And here is where I sat for awhile, mulling over these thoughts and trying to figure out which one fit.

What struck me was how although I was open to re-write the narrative of me being tough or hard core (which I am not sure has ever really applied, if I am being honest), I was replacing that narrative with a mean-spirited new script.  Instead of looking at this as me deciding to take care of myself and honour my body and not put it in harm's way, I labelled it as being soft, and not as intense as I once was.  How interesting, and also how sad.  As I reflected on this some more I realized that the self compassion I demonstrated in my decision to stay indoors was being wiped out by the lack of compassion I was attributing to my actions, and how mean I was being to myself.  

As my time on the bike came to a close (the one benefit of these types of mental ramblings is that they do eat into trainer time), I made the conscious decision to start re-writing old stories using compassion as my guide.  Instead of simply realizing that I'm in the loop of repeating old beliefs, I will start to invite in a compassionate voice to edit those beliefs into something that actually represents who I am and what is happening.  And even as I made this pledge to myself I had to refrain from thinking about the number of times I have said that I will be kinder to myself and how I seem to be back where I was with that.  I will take these moments of perceived set-back in stride, as taking a couple of steps back to take a bunch of steps forward is really the only way I think that we make any progress on our path through life. 

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