Running. It’s always been one of my passions. It’s been my therapy, my exercise, my physical release, my confidence booster, my safe haven…my identity. I could always count on running to pull me out of whatever funk I was in, re-center my thoughts and leave me with the best endorphin high imaginable. Then, injuries commence! These injuries started in my mid to late 20’s and now in my mid-thirties, I’m limited to a certain type of terrain (gushy, trail running) and a set amount of time spaced in between each run to avoid overusing the same muscles. It’s a nuisance to say the least. I have several back issues and per my podiatrist, an abnormally long bone in my foot (only fixed by surgery….nah, I’ll pass), that interfere with my range of motion, leading to a reoccurring calf injury and achilles tenderness. After relying on running to be my therapy, my method of recharging, my stress reliever and my mood enhancer for so many years, grasping that I could no longer rely on this as a constant stream of serenity and joy to my life was earth shattering. I was so deeply connected to running and allowed this passion to define me. Not to mention, it was the one thing I knew I was naturally good at. It was my one skill I felt proud of. Then one day, I realized after my sixth or seventh reoccurring calf injury, I had to switch this out for something else. I forced myself to sit down and think about what other things I enjoy doing. Obviously running isn’t for everyone. Looking back to when I initially started running as pre-teen and couldn’t even run a mile, I had awful form and couldn’t breathe well. I started training with my mom who was a runner and in time, with guidance and tips, became better and better. After that initial intro into running phase, everything flowed. Running didn’t feel hard. It just felt right. One would think the same “training” could apply to other things, right? Some people are naturally better musicians, but what makes them great, is practice. Some people have a great knack for combining amazing flavors and putting out a beautiful meal, but they didn’t come out of the womb knowing how long to marinate the chicken before it gets god awful rubbery. They researched, they practiced. They made mistakes along the way and served the rubbery chicken, making note to correct it next time. I decided to focus on the other things I loved (drawing, playing the piano, cooking, exercise, writing) and enhancing those interests into skills…eventually passions. Yes, I still go to the gym and get my little endorphin fix through other exercise, but I don’t depend on it to feel like me. It’s not my identity. I made that mistake once already. We all have various things we’re curious about or drawn to, but do we ever decide to take that next step? Commit to them and persistently “train”? Maybe even get guidance from someone who’s mastered that same skill? What’s one thing you would love to do but haven’t feel confident in trying? Why not take a class? Or find an online tutorial? Growth is always intimidating and sometimes challenging, but it’s worth it in the end. Maybe you’ll fall in love with it or perhaps you’ll realize it’s not for you after all. It doesn’t hurt to try. All of the learning lessons and challenges we attempt are like water pots, dripping water into the vulnerable young rose bush, nourishing our roots, strengthening our base, and flourishing into sweet-smelling blossoms.
