I used to be a runner. I ran in high school, and since then had run a few half marathons and tough trail runs. I really enjoyed running and the opportunity it gave me to find myself.
I got motivated to pick it up again several months ago because I needed to lose weight—I couldn’t fit into half of the clothes that were in my closet. In 2011, I had my sweet baby girl, who has been such a joy. In June 2012, I became pregnant but lost the pregnancy at 12 weeks. In July 2013, I was again pregnant and carried the baby for 19 1/2 very hard weeks before a heartbeat was once again missing. After that loss, I found myself heartbroken, overweight, and weak in spirit and body.
Twenty weeks later, I returned from a run and started checking Facebook where I discovered photos of newborn babies posted by friends who had announced their pregnancies around the same time as I had. We had celebrated and shared our early weeks of pregnancy together. While I rejoiced for them, I sorrowed for the vacancy in my heart and home. I did my fair share of crying, wondering, and soaking in a perfectly hot bath while reading Anne of Green Gables.
The next day, I got up and ran.
Running can be so arduous and even embarrassing when lugging an extra 20 pounds around with you. So why did I run during those difficult months? I needed to. I needed that time to think, to wonder why, to be in my own head and try to make sense of my world.
The parallels between life and running are profound to me. And most of these realizations came to me as I was . . . running. I’m not saying that everyone should run. I am saying that there are truths in life that make themselves evident in a variety of activities, especially when they are pursued deliberately.
Even when my body is jiggly and makes the spandex exercise clothes I am wearing look funny, even when I am tired, and even when I have a thousand other things clamoring for my attention, this is why I run:
- I run because I can. I have an opportunity in every situation to honor the strength, resilience, and hardiness within myself. By not running when I can, I predestine myself to be less able to run. I have the ability, and I feel drawn to build it because I can feel how it strengthens me. Similarly, I extend love, concern, and care because I can. Every day is filled with opportunities for me to honor my feelings of empathy, compassion, and soft kindness. When I choose to forgo these opportunities and instead wallow online, frenetically clean my house, or indulge in a myriad of other options, I decrease my potential for moments where my heart is open, accessible, and strong.
- Running gives the opportunity to practice positive internal dialogue. My internal dialogue during a run usually goes something like this: “You are doing this. One step, two steps. You are strong. You do hard things with dignity. You have come through before, and you will again.” My first daughter was born in 2009 with severe and varied congenital difficulties. She was an angel to me and continues to be that for me even though she passed away three months after her birth. After her death, I began working out in the mornings just to have a reason to get out of bed. As I would work out with 40 extra pounds on my postpartum body, I would remember all the difficult times and remind myself that I had made it through. I would tell myself, “You spent 7 weeks in the NICU with your baby girl—and you did it well. You gave your daughter 24-hour care for the duration of her life—and you did it well. You saw your daughter pass through this life, you cared for her body, and you buried her—and you did it well. You do hard things, which is why you can finish this workout—and do it well.” Mothering, especially through an aggravating stage, can feel daunting, futile. Instead of focusing on the cringe-worthy aspects, I try to remind myself of those hard things I have done with dignity. One step, two steps. Every person on this green earth has done hard things—-and done them well. Remind yourself of those things, and encourage the resilience and power within to win out, despite the challenges—large or small—of the day.
- Running reminds me that all things, for good or bad, must come to an end. No run is eternal. This can be a very merciful and encouraging principle on arrhythmic runs when my legs feel heavy and my heart rate and breathing never synchronize. It can also be a tad bittersweet when my feet seem to fly and the strength of my legs seems infinite, but I find myself at the end of my route. Sometimes days seem cruelly eternal. And sometimes we get those glimpses of heaven. The other night my husband and I were playing golf with our blonde-haired, lively sprite of a girl. My husband had a harmonica in his mouth, playing a jiggy tune, while we all danced playfully and tried to get at the tiny ball with our plastic clubs. We were all laughing so hard and felt so completely united. I didn’t even get a picture of the moment because I didn’t want to interrupt it. I just wanted to live in it. I wished we could just push pause on life and live in that harmonious and beautiful moment. But that can never happen. All we can do is soak up those moments and write them in our hearts before time moves forward. When I am running, I am reminded that time marches on; whether the moment is one of heartache or triumph, it will pass. I am reminded to appreciate the sweet and endure the rough.
Last night I went on a run. It was perfect. The temperature was in the magical zone of cool but not chilly. The mountains near my home looked enchanted, regally topped with pure white snow. I have been running for several months straight now, and this run was one of payoff. My legs were indefatigable, and my entire body felt unconquerable. I felt deep gratitude for my body, its resilience and strength.
My body is still a bit chubby, and I still feel the loss of my babies. But I have realized truths about life and myself that help me to live the best and only life I can. That is why I run.
QUESTION: What is one activity you can involve yourself in to realize principles of purposeful and peaceful living?
CHALLENGE: Develop a dialogue like the author’s that you can tell yourself when faced with a challenge. What are some hard things you have done? How can you remind yourself of them?
Edited by Amanda Lewis and Rachel Nielson.
Image from Shutterstock with graphics by Julie Finlayson.
Jen says
Beautiful. Thank you for writing this!
Natalie says
wow- you inspire me Jessee. Loved your thoughts on this topic. I’m going to use your “I can do hard things with dignity” mantra! Love it!!
Kristi Fuoco says
I LOVED your post! I’m a runner and a climber (as well as a hiker and a cyclist) and there is truly something special about running. It has calmed me, cared for me, challenged me and always brought amazing rewards. Climbing is my other happy place, because in these two activities all I can do is focus on the moment and celebrate the amazing thing my body is doing for me in that moment.
Tiffany says
Wow! What a great post! This was inspiring. I appreciate you sharing your wisdom. I want to make sure to appreciate the sweet and endure the rough in the best ways I can.
Rachel Nielson says
Thank you so much for writing this. Amazing article!
Amanda says
Loved the article, and Thank you for the reminder that all things must come to an end, good or bad. Sometimes it’s hard to see that light at the end of the tunnel when you are in the thick of the bad, but it is there.
agilmour says
Thank you so much for your beautiful article, it has really touched and inspired me. I have also run quite some years ago and off and on since. Lately, I keep trying to get myself out there, but have yet to actually go. I love most of all the positive talk..”you did it well”
Cheryl says
So beautiful Jessee! You are such a light in this world! Thank you for sharing your heart!
Erin says
Thank you for reminding me of one of my strengths I have avoided for a few years after my own loss. I’m digging out my shoes tonight and am determined to be strong again. 🙂