Why 100 miles? I refuse to give up on me: Pt 2
I dropped a major hint in part 1 of this series before I let the words take over and flow freely.
I'm a private person, yet share quite a bit. I dance on the line of privacy and public display to soothe my soul and hopefully inspire others. Sometimes I find myself too exposed and I run back to my cave of self solidarity where I'm most comfortable. In my own head.
But what happens when the waves of life get so upsetting and so ferocious that there is no peace even in my own head?
It get's scary people.
Without feeling exposed, I've learned to navigate through these waves that tries to take me under by allowing myself to feel.
For too long I bottled up the emotions. Buried them deep within to be strong for others. To be the foundation for others to stand, while neglecting my own needs and situation. I took too much of the brunt without taking care of me.
Ironic that I would do such a thing as it was my health scare that lead me to the ideology to make sure that I take care of me first. For if I don't take care of me, the people I love wouldn't have me around or would be placed in a position to take care of my health needs should I have a heart attack or stroke. So I began running.
I didn't take my new found ideology of "me first" to the level it needed to be. I only kept it at the surface of my physical and health needs. I didn't consider the need to take this philosophy to the depths of my soul and the recesses of my mind.
When we speak of taking care of ourselves often times in our society we fail to consider the mental, emotional, and spiritual aspects. We live in a society where if you're not happy then something must be wrong. Something must be astray.
We live in a society where we don't allow for our souls to get weary. We're taught that magically a prayer, a good word, or a uplifting quote places everything back into proper perspective. And if it doesn't? Oh you need to take a pill for that to numb out your senses.
I found myself depressed, angry, out of control (like we're ever in control), weary, and feeling overwhelmed. I ignored me. Yet I was the physically healthiest I had been in a long while. I had completed multiple marathons and yet I was down and out.
My grandfather was the strongest man I ever known. Yet he shed tears. He cried. I remember the first time I heard him cry silently to himself in the dark of the night when he thought everyone was asleep. He kept a strong presence for all, yet he wept.
He taught me it's okay to feel, just don't bitch.
Yet, I had abandoned his teaching and had got caught up in the waves of life. I had the strong face for others to look to, but I had forgot how to shed my tears in the quietness of the night.
Trail running emulated life in ways that connected to my soul. It got me "out" of my own head. I had to learn to feel the pain. Accept it. Know that it was coming and that it was going to hurt. I had to learn to distinguish between the pain of true injuries and the pain of just pushing forward. To learn to embrace them both and use them to make real choices.
Endurance running allowed me to feel again. To mentally feel where I had shut myself down to be "strong" for others, while hiding in fear of my own reflection within. #chewonthat
To crawl out of my darkness, I decided to take it all up a notch and force myself to face myself and tie that horrible need to look into the mirror of my soul with a #run365 challenge that would benefit kids who don't give a damned about the little daily bullshit that I had allowed to infest my mental and distract from the things that matter.
Ultra running is a poker game with serendipity where your mind and heart trumps your physical preparations. Thoughts play their role but emotions are an amplifiers. And they all come and go in all shades of gray.
I've felt the most alive in the darkest recesses of my mind in the middle of the night as I focused in on the voice of my pacer as the most humane offering ever after mile 47, as we climbed up the back side of McDowell mountain out of base camp.
Or the kindness of complete strangers when my body was wrecked in pain around mile 51.
Being able to literally pull strength from the eyes of Connie, my pacer, at mile 56 to move forward as she took care of my physical and hydration / nutritional needs. To see hope and humanity when you're physically and mentally at your worst.
I've communed with the heavens in the midst of training to go distances I would have never considered possible at any moment in life up till three years ago. Trust, training isn't as fun as Instagram and Facebook posts may make training appear.
I've even felt death tickle my nose in the back of the desert.
To be in the grip of torment and yet find happiness in the soul has been the most uplifting thing ever. To find my tears in the darkness where no one can see once again as I run with my dark dogs and find joy in their eyes.
But why 100 miles? Despite the pain and sadness of life, the depression that comes because I live, the anger within because I feel one way or the other about this or that which I have ZERO control, all that makes my soul weary; but ultimately I refuse to give up on me.
Plus I want another buckle. 😉🏁
However sometimes life is like a rogue wave that you never see coming and before you know it, you've been pulled under. You don't know if you can resurface for air. And if you do, you may find yourself miles from shore without the means or the will to dog paddle. Yeah that's life. That's not to depress any of you. But let's be real. Life is messy. Life is hard. But life is also powerful, inspiring, and delightful. Yeah, sounds crazy. -egsleeve- Why 100 miles Pt 1Many that think they know me, may think my wave was my health scare five years ago. The scare so bad and life threatening that I began my running journey. Yeah, that was a wave, but not the wave that set me on my current course.
I'm a private person, yet share quite a bit. I dance on the line of privacy and public display to soothe my soul and hopefully inspire others. Sometimes I find myself too exposed and I run back to my cave of self solidarity where I'm most comfortable. In my own head. But what happens when the waves of life get so upsetting and so ferocious that there is no peace even in my own head?
It get's scary people.
We are not permitted to choose the frame of our destiny. But what we put into it is ours. -Dag Hammarskjold-Pain, sadness, depression, anger, out of control, weariness, overwhelming life experiences. -put a pin in it-
Without feeling exposed, I've learned to navigate through these waves that tries to take me under by allowing myself to feel.
For too long I bottled up the emotions. Buried them deep within to be strong for others. To be the foundation for others to stand, while neglecting my own needs and situation. I took too much of the brunt without taking care of me.
Ironic that I would do such a thing as it was my health scare that lead me to the ideology to make sure that I take care of me first. For if I don't take care of me, the people I love wouldn't have me around or would be placed in a position to take care of my health needs should I have a heart attack or stroke. So I began running.
I didn't take my new found ideology of "me first" to the level it needed to be. I only kept it at the surface of my physical and health needs. I didn't consider the need to take this philosophy to the depths of my soul and the recesses of my mind.
When we speak of taking care of ourselves often times in our society we fail to consider the mental, emotional, and spiritual aspects. We live in a society where if you're not happy then something must be wrong. Something must be astray.
We live in a society where we don't allow for our souls to get weary. We're taught that magically a prayer, a good word, or a uplifting quote places everything back into proper perspective. And if it doesn't? Oh you need to take a pill for that to numb out your senses.
I found myself depressed, angry, out of control (like we're ever in control), weary, and feeling overwhelmed. I ignored me. Yet I was the physically healthiest I had been in a long while. I had completed multiple marathons and yet I was down and out.
My grandfather was the strongest man I ever known. Yet he shed tears. He cried. I remember the first time I heard him cry silently to himself in the dark of the night when he thought everyone was asleep. He kept a strong presence for all, yet he wept.
He taught me it's okay to feel, just don't bitch.
Yet, I had abandoned his teaching and had got caught up in the waves of life. I had the strong face for others to look to, but I had forgot how to shed my tears in the quietness of the night.
Trail running emulated life in ways that connected to my soul. It got me "out" of my own head. I had to learn to feel the pain. Accept it. Know that it was coming and that it was going to hurt. I had to learn to distinguish between the pain of true injuries and the pain of just pushing forward. To learn to embrace them both and use them to make real choices.
Endurance running allowed me to feel again. To mentally feel where I had shut myself down to be "strong" for others, while hiding in fear of my own reflection within. #chewonthat
To crawl out of my darkness, I decided to take it all up a notch and force myself to face myself and tie that horrible need to look into the mirror of my soul with a #run365 challenge that would benefit kids who don't give a damned about the little daily bullshit that I had allowed to infest my mental and distract from the things that matter.
Ultra running is a poker game with serendipity where your mind and heart trumps your physical preparations. Thoughts play their role but emotions are an amplifiers. And they all come and go in all shades of gray.
I've felt the most alive in the darkest recesses of my mind in the middle of the night as I focused in on the voice of my pacer as the most humane offering ever after mile 47, as we climbed up the back side of McDowell mountain out of base camp.
Or the kindness of complete strangers when my body was wrecked in pain around mile 51.
Being able to literally pull strength from the eyes of Connie, my pacer, at mile 56 to move forward as she took care of my physical and hydration / nutritional needs. To see hope and humanity when you're physically and mentally at your worst.
I've communed with the heavens in the midst of training to go distances I would have never considered possible at any moment in life up till three years ago. Trust, training isn't as fun as Instagram and Facebook posts may make training appear.
I've even felt death tickle my nose in the back of the desert.
What compels an individual to get up and continue with the suffering and pain?Despite the pain that coursed through my body at mile 56, finding the courage and the need to smile for me because I was doing what I once considered the impossible.
-Keys 100 Miler: Jesse Robert-
To be in the grip of torment and yet find happiness in the soul has been the most uplifting thing ever. To find my tears in the darkness where no one can see once again as I run with my dark dogs and find joy in their eyes.
But why 100 miles? Despite the pain and sadness of life, the depression that comes because I live, the anger within because I feel one way or the other about this or that which I have ZERO control, all that makes my soul weary; but ultimately I refuse to give up on me.
Plus I want another buckle. 😉🏁
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