Leaning In

Day Nine… and I find myself leaning in to Love like never before… who knew that “leaning in” would look like this, though? Quiet. Still. Curious. Compassionate. Courageous. Scared. Brave. Bold. Unsure. Patient.

Just finished an hour on the stationary bike. So thankful to have a piece of cardio equipment that fits inside the house. Maybe its perch in the living room isn’t the most aesthetic look, but the alternative is heading out to the unheated barn in 12 degree weather… which isn’t likely to happen… me being a sun goddess… and the barn feeling like it’s 872 miles away.

I am finding myself a bit on edge today… preparing to leave for a half marathon race a few hours away with two super cool peeps. They are way high energy and all sortsa positive affirmations. Like, if KickAss and BeHappy were to have babies, they woulda given birth to these two souls. They’re truly awesome and inspiring.

Thing is, I’m also a little intimidated. They’re fast! They’re upbeat! They’re ball-crushing! They’re no holds barred! And I’m all peace-love-and-happiness, chill-while-I-ponder-life. It’s not that I can’t run – though keeping up with them is not on my dance card – but I’m not sure I WANT to run, race, hurry, endure the bitter cold. 

Is this how I am called, destined, wired to spend my time while in this skin? 

There was a time when I chewed races up and spit them out, baby, and it was fun and I laughed and cried and hurt and got right back out there again. I collected medals and tee shirts, rubbed elbows with athletes, posted on social media. But I’m sensing a shift in me, a recalibration of energies, and thus a reorganization and reprioritization of how I spend my days and where I focus my passion.

And this scares me. A. Whole. Bunch.

What if I’m wrong? What if I’m reading the signals of my body-mind-soul incorrectly and it was God’s plan that I DO keep hustling butt and racing hard? What if I take a few months off and find that I miss running, racing, relationships around the sport, the highs and the lows of the running lifestyle?

(I know, duh, I can resume… so why the vexation? Why the self-condemnation? FEAR?)

Running has been such a big part of my life in the last ten years. Pondering stepping back from the racing end of it scares me. People admire runners. What will they think of me should I opt to scale back the mileage, the races, the plans for the future (run all the states and get faster)? Will I be seen as a slacker? A failure? A big fat baby?

Or will I see myself as a loser? And, if so, WHY?

We all have only 24 hours in a day and I think I’m feeling the stirrings from God to spend mine less on running and all that a racing lifestyle entails, and more on other passions, like writing, singing, reading, preparing for being a Nana, caring for my aging folks, and Being Still.

I feel like God is inviting me into a space of Being Still. Of Slowing Down. Of Quiet.

And what if this is just for a season? A year? A few years? It’s not like I can’t return to the race-life… I love running! I enjoy the sweat, the high, the adventure, the accomplishment. It’s not like it’s a friend who I am burying, right? We can return to each other later on down the road should this be my destiny.

And so… Breathe. 

I give myself permission to feel scared, to feel unsure, to be curious… I allow myself to be curious about what the heck is going on in my heart right now. I am in a space of patience and compassion for myself as this is a really big freakin’ deal in my life. 

What if it’s okay and I’m okay?!

What if it’s okay to be scared, to not know which way I’m going with this, but to just let it unpack itself. 

One day at a time, Dear Soul.

For today, I will finish packing for the race. I will enjoy the friendship and love of these two Focused, Passionate Souls and appreciate that they DO know their course of action and where God is leading them. I will ride along for the adventure and do my very best to allow myself to remain curious, compassionate, and courageous. 

I will hold space for my precious Soul and my very personal journey. Which doesn’t look like anyone else’s. And it doesn’t have to… and it can still be “right.” And I can still be “enough” and “good” and Perfect even.

And, even if for a season I choose not to race, Running and me can still be good friends.