Chronicles of Running: Week 6 (Uncomfortable)

Ok, so here's the thing. I have always, as long as I can remember, been drawn to the phrase "Step outside of your comfort zone." Isn't that weird? I mean, who wants to be uncomfortable...on purpose? I like change, and I always have, so that doesn't really qualify as being outside my comfort zone. I can be quirky, though, so there are small things that sometimes affect my level of comfort. Fortunately, I have plenty of examples from the sixth week of my C25K journey to further clarify this theme.

Running is uncomfortable for me. I'm not graceful when I run, and so I am acutely aware of others around me when I am running. If there are families at the park, others running, walking or biking or cars driving by, I am convinced they are watching me. I know, in reality, they are not concerned with my performance any more than I am with someone else I may see running. I'm just very self-conscious when it comes to something like this. This describes the social discomfort of running.

Then, there's the physical discomfort, which I think is probably universally understood and simple and self-explanatory. Just in case, you are reading this and you have supernatural powers that enable you to not be in pain when you run, allow me to enlighten you. My muscles hurt, mostly my legs. If I am going uphill, my calves ache the most. My lungs burn when I cannot fill them with enough oxygen to satisfy the demand. Depending on the weather, I'm rarely 'just right', but usually too hot, too cold, getting wind burn or rained/snowed on.

Finally, there is an element of mental discomfort. I regularly recall hearing Coach Myatt and Coach Davis talk about mental toughness from the time I was in junior high all the way through high school. This is a term they referred to in every seasonal sport...but especially those that involved running, like cross country, track and 'conditioning' for basketball. I can be a pretty stubborn person, so when I set my mind to something, I am not likely to stop until I do it. I go through a variety of mental battles during every run, going back and forth about where I'm going to run (tough hills to challenge myself or the easier route?), how fast I will try to go and push myself, whether I can really keep going until the app lady in my headphones says "Begin your cool down now.", which is a given, because I am just stubborn enough to not stop until I hear those magical words, even if I am moving at a snail's pace.

Life, in general, tends to be uncomfortable a majority of the time. I believe that it should feel that way. If I am too comfortable for too long, I get concerned that I'm missing something or maybe not doing it right.

What is the value of being uncomfortable?

Example #1: We spent Monday at the zoo, and it was a beautiful, sunny, wind-free day. I do not at all regret that I spent it outside with my family rather than on a run. However, Tuesday, I knew that I had to run. We are on the countdown clock until the 5K race, and I will finish my program the same week of the race. There is not really room for 'taking time off'. Tuesday morning we heard wind. I looked at the forecast for the day. Not good. There was an emergency alert for dust storms, winds up to 40 mph, with gusts up to 65 mph. I was having flashbacks to wonderful West Texas haboobs. But...we are in Colorado, so IN ADDITION to that forecast, there was freezing cold temperatures and snow. I knew I had to go run, immediately, before I could make excuses and talk myself out of it. I put on layers (not enough), plugged in my headphones, and headed to the park. I decided to do laps close by the house so I didn't get lost (since visibility was not good) or get blown away too far. This was a unique experience, unlike any other I have ever had. The wind was blowing so hard when I was running into it that it felt like I wasn't moving. It was so hard that when it was at my back up the hill, the hill wasn't so hard. My leg muscles did not hurt so bad, because my legs were numb from the cold. Tiny balls of ice were blowing at me, and I was hurdling huge boxes and other trash blowing in my path. It's pretty comical when I look back and think about it now. In the moment, I was just putting one foot in front of the other until I heard "One minute left." and knew I was going to quite possibly survive. As I was walking through the back gate at the house, my music stopped. After further investigation, I realized that my phone had shut off because it had gotten so cold. I don't know that I have ever been voluntarily more physically uncomfortable. I also don't know that I have ever felt more accomplished and proud to have finished something like I did at that moment. It was an amazing high. So, I think one of the main reasons to step outside your comfort zone is the pay-off. The reward for completing something you didn't know you could is incredible.

Example #2: (Disclaimer: I do not recommend this, but I am choosing to learn from it and try to see the good in it. :) Sunday morning I was walking into church. Brandon stayed home with Calvin, who was sick, so it was just Luke and me. I was running a few minutes late. I was wearing high heels. I was carrying my purse, the diaper bag, and my almost 8-month-old baby. The parking lot at church has some medians, made up of rocks with pathways to walk through every few parking spaces. As I made my way toward the door, hands full, I came to the curb and was not at a sidewalk but facing the rocks. I had a choice. I could turn around and walk back to find an easier path or I could brave the rocks...in heels. I was already late and to be more late might be uncomfortable. I had gone the wrong way, and if anyone was watching me circle the parking lot looking lost, it might be uncomfortable. So, I went forward. I was almost across the treacherous rocks and my ankle turned. I fell forward in one of those slow-motion feeling falls. I instinctively put my arm under Luke so no part of him would  be harmed. As I hit the parking lot, there could not have been a more physically uncomfortable or embarrassing moment. The two greeters came rushing to me, and I can only imagine what it looked like from their perspectives. I eventually got Luke to the nursery and stopped by the restroom to discover my elbow was gushing blood. Two very sweet ladies helped me get cleaned up and bandaged. Although I am still healing from that fall, I can already look back and laugh at my stupidity and the irony of it. I was trying to avoid being literally seconds later and a little embarrassment and this is what happened. While I would not repeat this incident, the silver lining of being uncomfortable on a number of levels was that I had the opportunity to meet two gentlemen and two ladies who reached out to me in my time of need. I was humbled and required to seek the help of others, which we all need to be able to do. I can look at what I can only predict will be a scar on my elbow and be confident that I would again sacrifice myself, if needed, to protect my baby.

Growth is the result of being willing to step outside yourself and your 'norm' and go against the grain sometimes. Inspiration is born, not in the mundane, but in the uncertainty of trying something new and not being sure of the result. Comfort is temporary and pales in comparison to the amazing things that can happen when we will reach beyond the limits we have set for ourselves and believe there is something more. My challenge to you is to do something every day, no matter how small, to step outside your comfort zone and see what happens.