What I learned from the BEST run of my life.

In almost every way, the morning started out differently that it had before. Approximately 20 degrees cooler, the air itself seemed to be filled with confidence. I woke early, around 5am, and proceeded through my usual morning ritual of French-press coffee, email and news.

I was ready to roll. My head was in the game, right from the start. Thinking back to my run two weeks ago, this morning hung in stark contrast to the fantasies I had of throwing in the towel not long before. It seemed impossible to imagine moving forward, or rather, moving at all, only two Saturdays previously.

Lacing up our shoes, my dad and I devised a realistic plan for completing our mileage. Our goal was 11. Slow and steady would be the name of the game. We plotted our course, filled the bottles on our refueling belts with Gatorade, put our iPod buds in our ears, and off we went.

The weather couldn’t have been more perfect. Cool, breezy and overcast, the sun was just tracing the billowy clouds with morning light. We rounded the track at Pinkerton Park four times; it seemed to go by quickly. As we passed other early morning runners, we cheerfully waved as we ran in time with the music pumping in our ears.

After a quick stop at the house, we made our way through the town square, the round-about dotted with only two or three cars, probably left over from the night before. It was calm and quiet, as most of city residents surely lay in their beds asleep. We passed the old buildings, looking sleepy and not yet awake themselves.

The last five miles became a bit more difficult than the previous six, but not impossible. High walls of leafy vegitation created a cool tunnel along the trail following the Little Harpeth River. It feIt strange to run past the places where I faltered on my last distance run, feeling strong and sure of finishing this time. I was back on the horse again, after a bad fall, regaining confidence in body and mind.

The final two or three miles went by quickly. Not pushing too hard, I was able to enjoy the scenery, and appreciate all that my body was able to do. It was even, dare I say, fun this time! As we approached the Public Square again, now walking to cool down, my dad and I commented that we could have gone even further. But, eleven miles seemed like quite enough for one day.

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If you know me at all, you know that slow and steady wins the race is pretty much the antithesis of my middle name. I am a make-it-happen kind of gal. Some might even say, strong-willed. Okay, everyone would say. I don’t like to give up once I’ve decided to do something. This dedication and tenacity have allowed me to accomplish some great things. However, they have also proven to be a liability when left unchecked.

I’m learning trying to learn to be willing to change strategies, and be flexible in how I get to my goals. I am not naturally this way. (Shocked?) Getting a little older and living with a chronic illness are teaching me to listen to my intuition and respect my limitations. Previously, I would have ignored the warning signs and barrelled right through the roadblocks. I am being broken of my drivenness. Thankfully.

For me, drivenness is characterized by insecurity, fear and the need to prove something. As I have often said, no one is thinking about you as much as you’re thinking about you. Never more true in our places of insecurity. No one cares how fast I run a half-marathon but me! In fact, my family and friends are endlessly encouraging and surprised that I would even attempt to cover that distance, much less run any part of it.

These days, my goal – my authentic goal, that is – is to be gentle with myself and enjoy being exactly where I am – even if that is a little slower than I would like. I will always enjoy a good challenge; that’s just who I am. However, going forward, I want to check my motivations, and have the wisdom to throttle back and let go when it’s best to. I probably have some more work to do on that one! Fortunately, I have a feeling life will give me ample opportunities for practice.