I completed 6 miles today and I should have been elated. Last week I remember feeling like a rockstar. . .this week something strange happened. Now I get those sappy moments on Biggest Loser when the contestants start crying and the trainers get all deep and stuff. I get it.
Maybe my mistake was completing mile 2 through Centennial Park-- seeing all the skinny people jogging and running looking all fit and trim. I tried to jog part of the way but my bum knee protested so I just kept walking. Into my 4th mile something strange happened. I was overtaken by the need to cry. I just wanted to stop and forget all about this stupid goal. I started thinking about how big I still am and how hard I'm working and it doesn't seem to matter. I started feeling ashamed of myself for waiting until 33 to decide to be active. I felt ashamed of my fat self out there trying to keep up with the beautiful people. I seriously tried to rememer the phone number of the security desk at my building so they could come pick me up. I felt shame wash over me. Here I was midway through accomplishing something I've worked so hard for and I felt. . .shame?? WTH?? I know this sounds crazy, but this is what was going through my head.
I called my Mom but I don't think she really understood it; actually, I didn't even understand it. And just as I was about to reach the bottom of the hill near the state capital I heard God say, "endure." What does it matter if you sprint half way through only to fall to the wayside? The race is not given to the swift. Life is about progression. Life is about living it minute by minute in your lane, not in someone else's.
The shame I felt did not motivate me; it made me want to quit. It made me want to take my shoes off and go sit on the couch. Shame is born of fear. When you start redefining what's possible, when you start becoming more of who God says you are the fear crops up. It crops up because when you redefine what is possible, you have to examine how you have defined yourself previously. . .and why. I remember feeling ashamed when I would go to my Mom's aeorbic classes. I thought she'd be embarrassed to tell people that I was her daughter. I remember feeling shame working out and catching my reflection in the mirror.
Today, as I rounded mile 4 and crested the hill into mile 5 I confronted my fear and my shame. Today, as I completed my 6 miles in 1hr 50min I chose not to beat myself up for walking at a 18.33 min/mile pace. Today I am thankful that every day I'm getting stronger and every moment I'm getting closer to God's purpose for me. Shame and fear have no place in my destiny. Onward and onward, higher and higher until I reach the finish line.
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