The 26.2 Healing Journey: Race Day

We huddled as night turned to day, each of us ready for our own unique journey.

I knew in the early miles that the marathon would give me more life lessons. My healing journey had gotten me to here, but the run itself was going to continue the teaching.

So, I listened. And here is what I learned.

Replace Win vs. Lose with Winning Your Own Race

The wonderful thing about running races is that everyone wins. Of the hundreds of us lining up for the marathon, each person toes the line with a chance to beat their own expectations, limitations and self-doubt. We all run with a chance to overcome - addiction, depression, and anything else we may be struggling with. Each person is engaged in a competition to see what incredible new things they will accomplish today. In this sense, the race clock and one’s place in the race fade into the background, formalities to record the event. This week, when life tempts you into a “win vs. lose” mentality, you can choose instead to focus on winning your own race.

Patience and Rest = Work

The first half of a marathon is a very unique place. Most of my mental energy over the first miles was focused not on speeding up, but on slowing down. You run this part of the race in a way that seems uncomfortably slow so that your body is able to run the entire distance. The first 13 miles remind that in a world that asks us to “go hard, all the time” that there are times where the best thing we can do is to hold back and become patient. There will be moments, as there were in my own head during the race’s opening miles, where you dismiss yourself and your effort, as we have been trained to see rest and patience as un-important and even as a failure. In actuality, finding time for rest may be the most important work we do this week.

 The beauty of leaving our comfort zone

Despite my months of hard and despite my meticulous attention to nutrition and hydration on race day, my body and mind started to fatigue with eight miles to go in the marathon. From a competitive running perspective, this is where the race unraveled. My mile splits slowed considerably. My dreams of finishing fast vanished. From a life perspective, however, this is where the most important lessons were being taught. Life took me from my comfort zone and reminded me that I was not in control. Embrace those moments of struggle this week. They are a gift, a place where you can see what cannot be seen when we are in our comfort zone.

The most important part of healing is not crossing the finish line, but rather, crossing the starting line

At 3^rd and Tijeras, we all gazed at the road ahead of us.

The horn sounded and the race began. Over the next sixty seconds, hundreds of feet crossed from one side of the starting line where you could still turn back, to the other side of the starting line where we committed to the journey.

By crossing the starting line, each of us was finishing a journey that took us through doubt, injury and other hurdles unique to each person.

The journey

to my healing

to your healing

to our healing

both starts and finishes

when we cross the starting line

 

Celebrating with friends and family at the finish!

The 26.2 Healing Journey

From hurt to healing to healed.

From a muscle tear to tearing up the miles once again.

My 6-month journey from a calf tear to today has been a “beautiful struggle”.

I am going to line up this Sunday to run 26.2 miles at the Duke City Marathon, feeling fit and healthy. Ironically, even though this marathon has been centered on coming back from injury, I am the healthiest I have ever been going into race day at this distance. (Marathoners and distance runners have very accurately been called “the healthiest group of injured people in the world”)

Had a patient of mine said, “Doc, what do you think about me coming off the injured list to run a marathon?” I surely would have done all I could to knock some sense into them. Maybe a psychiatry referral as well.

But, luckily, I have not been to the doctor in these last months.

As I ran in the liminal space between day and night this morning, I reflected on the larger life lessons these last months have given me. I will share a few of those here with you. I trust that they can support your healing journey.

Lesson #1 – Activating your healing journey is the hardest step

After months of limping around, I began to try short runs at very slow pace. It was hard on many levels. The calf still gave me pain that made me question if I was really ready to run again. The runs on a body that was out of shape were a mix of humbling and humiliating. When we are hurt, we have become stagnant because of that injury. Moving toward wellness begins with those first slow and timid steps.

Lesson #1A – The most important part of healing is not crossing the finish line, but rather, crossing the starting line

When I look at the last 18 weeks of running, it was crossing the starting line (e.g. starting to run again) that was the critical moment. In doing so, I was proclaiming to life and myself that I believed in my healing. Before that moment, I was holding onto my injured status. And beyond that, well, everything flows once we believe in our healing.

Lesson #2 – Learn to ignore the things that do not matter

As a runner, you can fill your mind with lots of numbers and metrics for your training. Pace per mile. Miles per week. Coming back from injury made me slightly better at seeing the bigger picture (“Wow, I am running again. Grateful to be out here!”) and better at ignoring meaningful stuff that does not matter (“Darn, that last interval was 3 seconds too slow”)

Lesson #3 – Put yourself around healing energy

It was a silly thought. I was very early in my training, but showed up in the foothills where some elite runners were doing a hill workout. I knew that I was not going to run with them, but a voice inside me said “Just go”. I think it the voice of wisdom, telling me that I needed to get around people who would remind me of where I was headed, helping me to forget where I had been. I continued to seek people who could help me heal in these last months – from physical therapy to Running Medicine friends to Solomon, Keenan, Chris and others. Injury isolates us. Healing requires us to connect back with those around us.

Lesson #4 – Shout your vision to the world (even if it comes out as a whisper)

It was a family vacation in July when I first uttered the words, “I might even run a marathon this fall.” I remember saying it in a whisper, not believing yet that this was more than a laughable hallucination. There is power in our words, and even more power when we share with others what our vision for healing looks like. What are you ready to shout out to the world?

 

 

My friends and relatives, brothers and sisters,

I embrace this healing journey with joy and gratitude. Thank you for listening and may it allow you, in some way, to move from hurt to healing to healed.

I will run for all of you.

I will run for all who cannot run.

I will run for healing.

Solomon and me, on a last tempo run along the race course. He pretended to breathe hard on the run, which was quite slow for his pace.

Balloon Week

 

Balloon week has brought near-perfect weather to Burque.

It is a week that invites us all to be a child again.

It is a chance to appreciate this place we call home.

Stressed? Angry?

Try this – go outside to get a glimpse of one or hundreds of hot air balloons. Let go and let the balloons take you to a better place.

Or even better, try chasing one to see if you can follow it to its place of landing.

 ~~~

Balloon week is special in our house as my parents often come from Baltimore to enjoy time with us. They take a balloon that says “Southwest Airlines” on its side, one that actually has steering on board. 

The week with them is always a full one.

 A meal or two at Frontier. Time in the Bosque, biking and hiking. 

And lots of balloon mornings and an occasional balloon glow evening.

The balloons become the backdrop for lots of quality family time and a chance to slow down.

Mom and dad, thank you for being our best part of balloon week!

A morning with mom and dad this week on a perfect balloon morning

Mrs. B is going strong

I last wrote about Miss B two years ago, and thought it was time to give everyone an update.

If you have read this blog from the beginning in the first weeks of the pandemic you may remember Miss B as a very important part of our house during the “virtual school” period. Our smallest one Sihasin saw her older siblings doing school on the computer and was feeling left out. So, our oldest daughter decided to become “Miss B”, broadcasting some on-the-spot interactive lessons for Sihasin. (Original story on Miss B)

The last we heard of Miss B, she had used the pandemic to find her true calling. Turns out education wasn’t a long-term fit for her, and she went into the pawn shop business. Seems that she also found a life partner, as her shop on Gibson is called “Mrs. B’s Pawn Shop.”

Yes, this news shook the Writing to Heal blog community when I shared it two years ago.

By "shook", I mean to say that all credibility I had as a writer was lost. And that 98.2% of readers decided not to read the blog anymore.

Well, we went to check in on her recently, wanting to see how she was doing.

In her words:

“The Pawn Shop business has treated me well. I am still an educator, but now it’s more about how this 20-year old lawn mower really will change the person’s life if they would just buy it from me for $150 in cash. 

I talk to them about how it doesn’t matter that they live on a 4^th floor apartment. It is about dreaming to have grass and then the grass will come. And that starts with having one of my lawn mower's that may or may not actually work. I guess you would say I am an educator for life.”

Whether you are completely confused or laughing out loud, Mrs. B says to have a great day...

…and to come buy this darn lawn mower so she can make room for some more junk that she can peddle to people who don’t need it.

Sihasin visited her "teacher" recently. Looks like Mrs. B was taking some well-deserved rest, as the shop was closed. Or maybe she was out looking for the next great lawn mower to sell...