Flying

I hesitated to write today. My mind is all over the place, it is cold and rainy outside and I'd love to wave my white flag and sleep until tomorrow. But this is where my heart has been calling me all day, so here I am. Bear with me.

Each time in the past year that I have been on the brink of something amazing, whether that is a business success, unveiling a new project or running a great race, my body revolts. Things really get crazy. Thoughts of doubt become prominent. I begin speaking to myself with such a negative connotation and saying things I wouldn't even say to my worst enemy. And typically I get ill in some way... exhaustion, migraines, etc. It has become so commonplace that I almost expect it, and so do my family and friends.

Today is 4 days out from the longest race of my life. I knew I would get race anxiety this week, but I guess I wasn't really prepared for the severity. I woke up yesterday feeling like I had been beat up in the night. This morning, it was a headache, achy legs and the desire to back out of the race. I know you're thinking, "Four days before the race? Why on earth would you do that?" And I just hang my head and respond, "I can't do it." That isn't true. It can't be. I've worked so hard to get to this point including an ambitious return plan. I've run through the heat, the falling leaves, pouring rain and blowing snow for this. I've set early alarms 7 days per week. I have even gotten up at 4am to run. Yeah, I'm that girl. So what the heck?!

Truthfully, it really doesn't matter. I don't need to know why I'm hitting a wall or why I feel like my chest is so tight I can't breathe. It won't help me to figure out why I have been crying all afternoon. And really, the race doesn't even matter. In fact, this was scheduled to be my third half marathon, not my first. It isn't the date or the venue or the 6 hour drive to get there. It's the journey over the past 18 months that matters more. It is the feeling I'll have in my heart when I cross that finish line, or the way I will tell my kids about the race when I get home. What matters is that despite how many times I have been knocked down, I have overcome every damn thing that has stood in my way.

My coach gave me a plaque that says, "Until you spread your wings, you will have no idea how far you can fly." I think that says it all. I'm afraid I won't be able to fly, like my wings won't work or that I'll fall on my face. Though I'd say showing up and falling on your face and then getting back up (because hell, I do not stay down well at all) would still be flying. I've gone from the confines of the chrysalis to the freedom of the butterfly. Pretend you are a caterpillar. Do it. When you are in that cocoon, it's dark and scary. You are alone. It's necessary, but terrifying. You'd like to stay there but you know you must leave if you want to continue living. To break out of it, you have to use your own strength. (If you help a butterfly loosen the cocoon, it will not develop its wings properly and thus, it will die. True story.) It is hard work and exhausting. Once you are finally free, there is still more work!!! Seriously?! You actually have to try to fly. You've never done that before, but all you need is within you. You are full of new life, strong yet fragile and a beautiful inspiration to others.

So why are you afraid of flying? Probably for the same reason that I'm afraid. But I am unstoppable. Watch me.