Imperfection confession: sometimes, I just. don’t. listen.
My mom often shares stories of my childhood that usually go something like this: as soon as I was able to move, I’d go towards the shiniest [read: most dangerous] object in the room…apparently usually a light socket, with my finger out. They would pick me up, place me across the room, and no more than five seconds later, I’d be heading towards the light socket again.
While I’m not 100% confident that story isn’t mildly exaggerated, the gist is probably spot on. I believe Einstein said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results. I’ve done some things over and over without paying attention to the results or realizing I’m going in a circle. Sometimes, its worked out okay. Other times, I’ve gotten burnt. Bad.
I’d like to think I’ve gotten smarter over the years. Or perhaps a little less stubborn. [Stop snickering, mom.] But I am still one that has to learn the lessons in my own time. [Can I blame it on being a Taurus??]
Thank God my parents are patient, because over the years they’ve had plenty of opportunities to say “I told you so.” Instead, they provide advice when asked and may nudge me in one direction or another, but at the end of the day, always allow me to make my decisions – good or not-so-brilliant.
Maybe it’s age. Maybe it’s those who have stuck by me over the years and called me on my *ish when I needed it. Whatever it is, I’d like to think that I’ve started to listen to my gut more when it tells me something is ‘off.’ That I’ve started to listen to my brain when it tells me ‘you need a break.’ Or that I’ve started listening to my heart more when it screams ‘RUN!’ in a variety of relationship settings.
Unfortunately, a few weeks ago, I didn’t listen. I was having a bit of a woe-is-me moment, and instead of listening to my body or my mind, I pushed through it. After all, working out is one of my happy places. And I had paid for my gym for the month (needed to use my sessions, right?!) and I had paid for the race I signed up for (waste not to run in it, right?!). So I pushed it. I woke up the morning of the race, feeling tight in my legs from a bootcamp workout the day before, and mentally and emotionally tired and knew I was playing softball that evening. But I got to the starting line, and the adrenaline-happiness kicked in.
Honestly, it was probably the best race I’ve run in terms of time. I got in a zone and just let it all go: the things that had been bothering me that week, the disappointment I’d felt or the homesickness that had been nagging at me. I just ran. I had forgotten how much I loved running – music in my ears providing a little distraction and road beneath my feet. And I felt like I needed to prove something….maybe to myself. Maybe to someone else. I don’t know. But there was nothing going to stop me.
Unfortunately, by the end of the race, my knees let me know: they. were. not. happy. And my body was all like “dude, WTF? You’re not like, 24 anymore.’
So I went and played softball that night. And then went to bootcamp Monday. [You see where this is going, right?]
And now I’m in pain. And limping like an ol’ fool. And unable to do some of the things I love [long walks, boot camp, etc.] until my knees stop being so angry with me.
If I had advice to give to my younger self, it would be: stop, collaborate, and listen. [Vanilla was a smart man.]
In all seriousness: this was a good reminder that my mind and body are smarter than I usually give them credit for, I don’t need to prove anything to anyone, and the ‘shoulds‘ get you no where. You can save yourself a whole ‘lotta trouble and pain in the end if you just LISTEN.
[Also, since I was the dumb*ss that did this to myself, please feel free to laugh when you see me hobbling down the street. I kind of deserve it and can totally take it.]
*xo.
Independence, Imperfection and Being Awesome 