I had a thought this morning that made me think twice.
One of those eyebrow lifting moments. I realized I had been talking to myself in a twisted and warped way for quite a while, and it was time to untangle the story that was living in my head.
Dust off the cobwebs and rearrange the furniture up in the attic, so to speak.
For years, I was operating on the premise that running made me a strong person.
It was a fundamental belief that I held for who knows how long.
Too long.
Somewhere along my path, I had come to believe that I was a strong, good, passionate, dedicated, persevering, faithful, hardworking and brave person – because I was a runner.
If that is true though, during this time of injury (5 months and counting, with very little and sometimes no running at all) would stand to reason that I am therefor less of all these things.
FALSE.
You can go ahead and laugh out loud. I did.
I had it all wrong.
All of these things about me ARE TRUE. And always have been. Even before I ever ran my first step.
And they will hold true – no matter how little or long, how fast or slow, how easy or hard I run.
I am a strong person who happens to love to run.
Not a strong runner who happens to be a person.
I bet you are the same.
