The last time I ran a mile was in college in the winter of 2010, the weather in Los Angeles was finally cool enough to run outside on the school track. I asked for a pair of Nike running shoes for Christmas because I’d never had running shoes before; these ones had pink laces, a small hole in the heel for the running chip to track my distance and pace.
I was slow, running ten and eleven-minute miles, but this didn’t matter because I was doing something I’d told myself I’d never do, training for a race even. In middle school, my peers poked fun at me during PE classes for how my body bounced while running the quarterly mile test. I laughed along, not minding because I hated running and had no desire to be good at it.
Then, in college, I decided I wanted to try. I found there to be something melodic about running in circles every evening with no destination to be reached. I stopped where I started and started where I stopped. The only end was the one I decided on, and that gave me a sense of control and peace.
After running my race in the spring, I knew my short stint with running was complete. I didn’t want to go any farther; I didn’t need to. I’d spent three months running in circles for miles. It was more than I ever thought I could accomplish when I’d first set out. The short girl with the uneven hips was proud. I did something that wasn’t me, or I had never believed it could be for me. And that made me feel like I had expanded.
*
We get to change our minds. This may be one of the most important truths I’ve learned in my adult years. Nothing is set or certain, and we get to change our course as many times and as often as we’d like. We are the only ones standing in our own way.
I think about this often with my own writing practice. How, as of late, I’ve been cursing myself for not getting out of bed and writing while the sun comes up. I used to love getting up early to write, the world quiet and my thoughts spinning. This isn’t where I’m at right now though. Right now, my body relishes those extra hours of sleep, and my mind is foggy at dawn. Instead, this writing season looks like short stories and vignettes that I jot on my phone throughout the day and revisit later.
The world is constantly evolving, and so are we. We can lean into this rhythm or resist it. We can embrace the pull to go in new directions as an invitation to expand ourselves. Or, we can remain stuck in our self-created boxes, trudging through even when it’s no longer working, even when our path has become a dead end.
Likewise, we are not limited to who we are or have been before. We get to change our course, and we get to change ourselves. This truth means so much to me right now as I explore new avenues in my creative and professional life. Somehow, I’ve forgotten how to dream and welcome possibility. I’ve long needed the reminder that I am not stagnant.
For example, I’ve been dreaming about opening a bookstore and learning how to start my own business. And recently, I discovered I love sardines and crackers (yes, sardines!), as well as pickling radishes. Five years ago, I would have gagged at the mere idea of that.
My dad took me fly fishing a few years ago, and it’s now a hobby I want to get better at. I’m shifting from writing nonfiction to fiction. I am changing internally too—learning how to control my feelings more often and put myself out there with friendships. I’ve discovered I can be quite good at setting boundaries in difficult relationships when needed, though a few years ago, I believed that would be something I’d struggle with forever.
If you want to change, you get to—you get to start the new business, or quit the old one; you get to go back to school and start the garden in your yard and move to a new city even though you told everyone you were staying put. Life is lovely and wild and always changing. The invitation is that we get to change with it.
*
I ran again this week for the first time in almost a decade. It wasn’t planned. I joined a new gym and gravitated toward the treadmill. As soon as I started walking, my body demanded I run. Maybe it was the stress. Perhaps it was hormones. But I needed to feel my heart and hear my breath. I needed to feel my body doing something new and different and uncomfortable.
And so I ran. Then I came back the following day and ran again. Three times in one week, I ran faster and faster, feeling alive and exhilarated by the prospect of trying something different.
How incredibly wonderful that is.
Weekly Feels
I love Elyse Myers’ perspectives, and this one is especially powerful for those of us who experience anxiety or often feel overwhelmed.
Lewis Capaldi’s latest single, How I’m Feeling Now, speaks straight to the complexity of feelings and life.
“We can embrace the pull to go in new directions as an invitation to expand ourselves. Or, we can remain stuck in our self-created boxes, trudging through even when it’s no longer working, even when our path has become a dead end.” how beautifully profound. thank u for imparting your words.
Thank you for this. I happen to be experiencing many life transitions at the moment, and I often feel such resistance and fear around it all. But, this serves as a comforting reminder that the only constant we have in this life is, in fact, change – and that we can find beauty and optimism through it all.