Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Wordy Wednesday: Who put that speed bump in my path?

speed bump (noun) : a low raised ridge across a road or parking lot that causes people to drive more slowly.

 At the beginning of the year I really did not think I bit off more than I could chew for the first quarter of the year… work, volunteer with a couple of organizations, train for a half marathon, French class, keep normal social engagements etc. Add in the this snowy cold winter, start the home buying process and that I seem have a regular mental block that February and March are my most taxing months at work. The result, I am staring at an overflowing plate. I tell myself “you can do it, just buckle down it really is not too much.” Well this year the Universe thought differently and with a concerned chuckle thought “that one needs to slow down for her own good!”  The speed bump that was sent my way was in the form a respiratory bug that stopped me in my tracks. There was no soldiering through this bug. I stared at the calendar, I was three weeks from the half marathon. I kept telling myself this would clear up quickly and there was a glimmer of a chance that I could still run the Love Run at the end of the month. The things we whisper to ourselves when we want to hold out hope. Deep down I knew this was not true, this was too close to race day and this cold was too bad for the reasonable person to: in 22 days to recuperate, salvage whatever was left of a training schedule and complete the half marathon without doing any damage to one’s fragile health. This is one of those wonderful "could vs should" debate. Could I do it? yes. Should I do it? No. My doctor said to me, “with the cold you have, only a crazy person would still be considering to run the race at the end of the month, and you are not a crazy person! Pick another race, preferably a couple months later.”   

So grudgingly, I agreed I would bail on the race. Bailing on the race is not an easy thing for me to do. For me to just quit something, is not in my DNA. It takes something monumental to get me to throw my hands up and walk away. Sometimes sticking it out and not quitting can be a good thing (e.g.accomplishing goals,  coming up with creative solutions to hard problems), many times waiting too long to quit can be a bad thing (e.g. staying too long in an awful job, staying in relationships well past their expiration date). Learning to accept that quitting can be a good thing is a tall task for me, but I am learning to accept it bit by bit. I hope to go on a small run, a couple of miles or so, on race day to celebrate that I am healthy enough to be back running instead of being glum that I had to quit.