At the beginning of the year, I had a goal to make 3 new recipes a week. I was signed up for 2 races, then a third. I was in the most peaceful relationship of my life. In February, for my 29th birthday, I visited my cousin just outside of Las Vegas, where we enjoyed meaningful conversation, delicious food, and we ran a half marathon relay together and I PR’d everything. I was hoping (and planning) to ride that momentum through the entire year.
In April I got shin splints and had to cut back on training a lot. I started adding in more trails (less of an impact on my body).
In May that peaceful relationship ended—which was fine, but it was hard to lose such a close friend.
Also in May, I realized that any pavement running caused my shins to ache, so I moved completely to running trails. I ended up dropping out of my June half marathon (more on that here).
I kept my July half marathon on the schedule, but I had just barely started adding pavement runs back into my schedule so the race was pretty rough. I felt so good as I started the race—but I soon realized that I went out too quickly. I started out at my usual pavement race pace, but I was NOT prepared or trained for that (trail running is very different—my pace is slower and I do a lot of power hiking). I crashed FAST. By mile 5 I hit the wall. I stopped and slow walked, calling Kathryn and leaving her THE MOST pathetic voicemail. I finished though, and am glad I did the race. But man oh man, I think it burnt me out more than I realized.
It’s been about 4 weeks since that race. My third planned race this year is next month, and my new training cycle was supposed to start yesterday. Every time I even THINK about running right now, I feel like my body gets 20 times more tired and I feel like crumbling into a ball on the floor. SO.
I feel like my body is craving slowness and gentleness. At the beginning of the year I taught a 3-class series of gentle yoga classes, but by the time I finished teaching those classes my focus had turned more to running. I felt like I was done teaching yoga—at least for the foreseeable future, and maybe forever.
But now I feel like it’s time to come back. To be gentle to my body. To come back to that space.
The year so far is not how I planned it to be. My hips are wider than I expected them to be (despite exercising more intensely and eating better than I did last year, if I’m remembering correctly), my bank account is about where I expected it to be, and I have run far fewer races than I had planned to.
And yet, this year is so much more than I thought it would be. I have healed from multiple heartaches faster than I ever have in the past. I feel SO much fulfillment in my job—a job that has grown over the last few months in really great ways, and I am so grateful. My heart has healed in miraculous ways, and things that would have triggered trauma in the past no longer shake me like they used to. I have been blessed with greater closure from past heartaches than I ever thought I’d receive. I have the joy of serving in the LDS Temple every week, which is bringing me more joy, light, peace, and clarity than I ever expected it to. I upgraded my living space to include more space and light. I’m learning how to care for my body better. I made really good cookies last week, and on Sunday I cooked my first roast! Monumental times over here! 😉
This year so far isn’t what I expected it to be, but despite the setbacks, losses, errors, and what have you, this year has led me to exactly where I need to be right now. I have no idea what the rest of 2018 will hold, but I have a feeling that it will yield some of the greatest gifts I’ll ever have.