There is a certain power in suffering. There is a particular energy gained in persevering through obstacles that seem insurmountable. I am more and more convinced that it is the negative, destructive and painful things in our lives that actually lend us more effectiveness in life than all of the happy events. It's really only after we have survived things that we didn't think we could survive that we know the depth of our endurance, or better yet, learn new depths of endurance.
I have spent a lot of time lately thinking about resilience and mental strength, and what makes some people so perpetually buoyant, even in the face of the greatest adversity. I want that resilience. I want that strength of mind and heart. I want to know that all of the things that have happened in my life have been exactly for the purpose of removing the fear of the Next Big Thing.
Nothing makes me feel as powerful as remembering the things that I have overcome, accomplished, faced and mastered. All of the sunshine and rainbows and introspection and happy days and self-care can't hold a candle to what a good, hard kick in the ass can do for my empowerment.
I hate running. As in, I really don't like it at all. It's uncomfortable. It's not fun. It's All The Things I Don't Like. It's symptomatic of being a grown up, when you aren't running to play tag or kick the can because of the exhilarating FUN factor of chasing and being caught, you run because you are fat and lazy and slow and you made choices in your life that demand you run without destination other than a number on a scale or so you don't die from eating too many donuts. It is safe to say that running is my chief enemy in life, which could work out really well if I take out all of my frustrations by tying on the shoes that I loathe and beating the hell out of the pavement to cure my anger. Running is my whipping boy. It's where I conquer my tastes and find forgiveness for the things I can't control. It's where I face my darkest enemies. I've set off in the bitter cold to run off the sneaking suspicion of an anxiety attack, and it works. It's powerful. And I come home feeling like I have what it takes to look the other enemies in the eye. The Fear. The Worries. The Grown Up Things.
Anyway, all of this rambling to say: I am going for a run. Catch you on the flip. Find your power.
