… and other things you didn’t realize your parents did to you.
Now don’t get me wrong, I understand they did the best they could and I do not believe my parents were EVIL or anything. But let’s just say I can hear the voice of Yoda as I type, “The dysfunction is strong with this one…” Especially my family.
But this post has a very specific INCIDENT to which I want to address. I FINALLY get those PINK Shoes out of the box and onto my feet to try them out for a few hours. I am visiting my Dad and feel the need to IMPRESS him with the Newness and BRIGHTNESS of my PINK SHOES; because there is still a part of the little girl in me who wants his validation and the REACTION that a good story USUALLY generates. So I raise my FEET and announce the presence of my NEW SHOES. Aren’t They BRIGHT??? Aren’t they cool?? Here are all the reasons I needed them… I DID not mentioned a SINGLE word about RUNNING or the 5K idea that had begun to marinate in my head. The purpose of the Shoes were JUST to be comfortable for WALKING more. After ALL I needed to do better with my Fitbit Steps.
Somewhere before I had EVEN gotten to the punch line of my story, my dad interrupts with his commentary on RUNNING: “I don’t get runners. Have you EVER met a happy runner? I mean look at them they ALWAYS look MISERABLE, Unhappy. I’ve never met a happy runner.”
AND THERE IT IS SPORTS FANS… the seed to the root of my dislike of running. HOW is it that ONE parents perception, belief, or joke about an activity can root itself so far down deep into their child’s psyche as to generate a subconscious belief they cling to with ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY. Now don’t get me wrong, I didn’t like running the mile in Jr High (who did) and by the time I hit High School I couldn’t do the sports I wanted, why would I entertain the thought of running something that was supposed to make me feel miserable.
As soon as he made that joke about the unhappy runner, I heard my inner WOMAN scream, “YOU DID THIS TO ME!!!!” Just like Bill Cosby’s wife says in his comedy routine about her giving birth to their first child. So I sit there through the rest of my visit and most of my ride home with a new-found sense of identity. Mostly entertaining a lot of questions, “Who said you can’t run? Why not do the Couch to 5K? What could it hurt? Why not try something else NEW again? What have you got to lose? Hasn’t your Dad been wrong about MOST things in life?” Pretty Much.
So with this new-found realization about my avoidance of running, I begin anew a rebellion against the beliefs of my father. Deconstructing the belief systems I have always had, replacing them with New things. Taking the bucket list to a whole new dimension, instead of doing things I have always wanted to but haven’t yet; doing things I have always thought I could NEVER do. Sometimes I don’t know the reason behind the belief I couldn’t do something, but doing them none-the-less.
So November 2nd began my Couch to 5K training. I got out on the track, in the PINK shoes and completed my first workout. Having an app and a plan and a GPS and music and a track near by has made this EMOTIONAL first step easier than feared. But don’t get me wrong, THERE WAS FEAR. I have been OVERWHELMED by the internal warnings of my fearful lymbic system, “What if it’s locked? What if you’re not suppose to use it? What if you look stupid? What if there are people there that laugh and point? What if your too cold, too hot? What if it starts raining? What if it’s too hard? What if it hurts?” and on and ON. I hear it, and push past it, like a determined healthy shopper pushes past all those COSTCO vendors begging you to try a sample of their fried food. And I made it to the parking lot, I made it to the track, I made it around once, I jogged each interval my app said to do, and I made it through the cool down to complete 35min.
SO THERE DAD!!!! I may not have looked happy while I was doing it; I may have been SCARED out of my mind to TRY IT; I maybe have even looked COMPLETELY out-of-place by the 2 guys doing their own track workout; BUT I DID it. I ran and finished. There is nothing and NO ONE saying I can’t do it but me… And I’m not saying that EVER EVER AGAIN!!!