The Beginning Doesn't Always Predict The Ending

Marathon training is upon me, again. I have just passed the halfway point, with my training load steadily increasing as the weeks until race day steadily decrease. This is where sh!t gets real, and suddenly the gravity of what I'm going to do becomes much more palpable. The longer runs will never match the distance I cover on race day, and yet they seem just as far some days. These are the days when I need to remind myself of the simple fact that, no matter how hard we try, we cannot predict the outcome of an event based solely on how it begins.

Some things feel very hard at the beginning, and we often assume that the level of pain and discomfort we are experiencing in the moment will last throughout the effort. On many, if not all, of my longer runs, I often begin by feeling pretty crappy. My stride feels stiff and unbalanced. My mind is also feeling unbalanced, with questions about the hows and whys of my planned activity taking up all of the mental space I have. In these early kilometers, it is so easy to assume that this is how the run will feel the entire time I am out, with the eventual end of the run bringing some sort of salvation. What tends to happen instead (thankfully) is a slow unknotting of my physical and mental state.  A gradual sense of flow and ease enters the picture, and before I know it, I am standing outside my favourite cafe with a smile on my face and a latte in hand.  Heaven. Had I based the entirety of my run on those initial ten to twenty minutes of discomfort, I would have missed out on the enjoyment that comes with settling into a challenge, and maybe wouldn't have managed to stay focused on getting done what I needed to. 

I have found this to be the case for more than just running - it's happened during cycling forays and during hard semesters at school or challenging seasons in my career. While I like to dabble in new hobbies, picking up new skills along the way, I am not someone who tends to have things come naturally to me. I find myself on the opposite end of the spectrum from these "naturals" and have to put my head down and shoulders into the heavy lifting that comes with learning something new. This does not always feel good or inspiring, and props open the door that says "Exit - Stage Left." I am glad that I have endured enough of these uncomfortable moments in my life to know that hanging in past the point of dis-ease often leads to discoveries and growth that would go unnoticed if I threw in the towel before reaping the benefits of hard work and effort. 

The same principle can be applied conversely, as I have also learned. Not everything that starts out feeling good will necessarily feel that way forever. As someone who has had two marriages end in divorce, I didn't enter into either thinking that was how they would end. Holding onto good memories can encourage us to stay longer than we should when situations are not in our best interests. In my experience, this principle has applied to personal and professional relationships. It is easy for me to look back now on relationships in my career that I could have walked away from much sooner than I did, but held on because of a hope that things would go back to how they had been. Hope is not a plan, no matter how painful the reality of moving on might be.

So here I am, saying that two sides of the same coin hold true - now what?  What to do with these "nuggets" of wisdom? Be present with them. The only way to know what to do next is to be present and open to witnessing how you are feeling in the moment and from moment to moment. Staying open to flowing with the feedback you are gathering is the only way I have found to know that you are being true to yourself and your needs. This is the only way to ensure that the choices you are making to endure or release are based upon what is serving you and are not driven by a false belief that suffering is permanent and life is an endurance event. Walking toward and walking away are equally important self-care measures to be embraced without shame when necessary.