I Trust Myself

 I have never been one to enjoy speed training.  For some reason I told myself a long time ago that I simply am not fast, never have been, never will be, and as such I find speed training to be unnerving.  Maybe it is because it forces me to confront those old messages head-on and to push past my discomfort around going fast.  Maybe it is because I hate the idea of doing things that I am not good at.  Maybe because it is hard and doesn't feel great in the moment and being safe and comfortable are the stasis that our bodies and minds tend to prefer.

Regardless of the reason, I'm at the point of marathon training where speed work is coming into play, and so in the darkness of late summer mornings I am confronting the doubts and negative talk as I lace up and head out.  There has been a slow shift taking place lately, which has been impacting me both on and off the track in positive ways.  I was having a hard time putting my finger on exactly what was changing, until I was on a tempo run this past week.  This workout had me warming up for a period of time at an easy pace and then moving to a faster pace for the middle part of the run and then returning to my easy pace to cool down.  I got started on the run, and let the worries come as they may.  Instead of spending energy trying to fight them I just let them flow, and eventually I noticed them getting quieter.  As I began to pick up the pace, I noticed that I didn't feel terrible and I began to recite the mantra "I can do this forever".  I let those words carry me along for the next few minutes, savouring the feeling of fluidity in my stride.  Then the mantra changed.  My mind was filled with three powerful and unexpected words "I Trust Myself".  

There was no immediate flick of a switch.  The skies did not open up and I did not hear any sort of angelic song or mystic chants.  Instead I listened as my own voice said over and over again "I Trust Myself".  And with each repeat of this phrase, I felt myself loosen up just a little, let go just a bit more, and ease into the work at hand.  The more I realized that I DO trust myself, the more relaxed I was able to become and easier the hard work became.  Before I knew it, the hard stuff was behind me and I was back to an easy pace that carried me home again.

While I made my way back to home base, I explored the notion of what trusting in myself actually means to me, and why it would have had such a profound effect.  I thought about the feelings that come when we are in a space of not trusting, either ourselves or the environment around us, and what type of energy that brings with it.  I pictured myself walking down a rickety flight of stairs and how hard I would be clutching the banister for fear of falling down.  Then I pictured myself walking down a flight of stairs that felt stable and secure - would I even reach for the railing?  What I realized in that moment was how intertwined fear and control are in our lives.  The more we fear an outcome or situation the more we attempt to control it and in doing so the more we close ourselves down so we can armour up.  Although we cannot control what causes us to feel fear, we can control how we feel about our ability to show up in situations.  Trusting in ourselves allows us to show up more fully and in a more open and responsive state.  And the more times that we allow ourselves to feel that sense of trust, the stronger it will become, like any other muscle in our body.

What has been so interesting is how this trust has also allowed me to engage more authentically and deeply in relationships (both new and existing), in my writing, and in so many other areas of my life.  I hadn't realized how much I was shutting out simply because I was afraid to trust that I was ready or able to just be me.  I have no idea if these tempo runs are going to contribute to my experience in Chicago from a running standpoint, but I do know that the lesson I learned today will make me feel a heck of a lot better as I prepare to toe the line in a few weeks' time.