I read an article recently about the importance of
self-encouragement in running. I’ve since
lost the exact article and citation, but what I remember is along these lines: Runners were put on a treadmill and asked to
run as long as they could. The next
week, the same runners were put on the same treadmills. This time, however, half
of them were told to say “I feel good, I can do this” to themselves as they
ran. The group that said those things to themselves ran longer than they had
the previous week, and they ran longer than the other group overall.
I took that article to heart, and I have started to say those
things to myself frequently when I run. Not only that, but I have added something
else that makes sense to me, a prayer. I thought about the time when I had a
broken femur in 6th grade and had to re-learn how to walk after 3 months
in traction and a body cast. I thought about the people that I know and care
about that have physical limitations that prevent them from running. And so the
prayer I have added is, “Thank you, God, for the gift of being able to run.”
Now, when I’m running on the treadmill and getting tired and ready to convince
myself that it’s time to quit, I thank God for the gift of the ability to run.
I remind myself that I feel good (even if my body disagrees) and affirm that I
can reach my goal. It is working well
for me.
Until yesterday, that is.
It takes a special level of gracefulness to be able to slip
and fall on snow- inside. I had put on my boots to run between the church
building and the office building between the 2nd and 3rd
services, so that I could refill my hot tea mug. I made it successfully between the buildings
and walked into the office. Apparently,
though, my boots still had snow on the bottom of them. I hit the kitchen linoleum,
and my feet went up and I went down. Nothing was broken, but once I caught my
breath, I realized that a few things were probably pulled. I got through the
final service of the morning, tried (unsuccessfully) to give blood at our blood
drive, and let Andy drive me home. After an afternoon of resting and ice, I
planned to be fine this morning.
My plans worked well until my feet hit the floor this
morning. Ouch! My favorite chiropractor shared with me the encouraging news
that I’ll feel even worse tomorrow. I’m sitting at my desk, with ice on the painful
parts, taking Motrin as often as allowed.My gait is fairly reminiscent of The Mummy in the old movies, step-slide, step-slide.
I haven’t asked my favorite chiropractor yet when I’ll be
able to get back to the gym. Whenever I
do get back to the gym, though, I’ll tell myself that I feel good, that I can
do this workout. And then I’ll thank God once again for the gift of being able
to run. Or walk. Because that gift should never be taken for granted,
especially during a snowy winter.
