It’s a fact — at least in my eyes — that running is a subtle form of torture anyone can inflict on themselves in the pursuit of wanting to become more fit and able-bodied.
We could say this about all forms of fitness, in fact, however, I find running to go above and beyond horrendous and I can’t stand it, which begs the question, Why have I decided to run one mile a day for 30 days when I find it to be such a dreadful endeavor?
Simple. I want to know if I can embrace the suck and do it anyway. I want to learn if there is a way I can hijack my train of thought, rewire my internal conversations to lean away from the negative while possibly finding that glimmer of joy in being able to run a mile a day. If I can do that, imagine what I can do in other areas of my life? Imagine how things can open up that were once closed off and barricaded? Maybe joining the PTA is an option.
Step 1 to Changing My Approach: Stop Saying “This is the worst part of my day.”
I’ve noticed a trend. Every morning before my run, I’ve uttered these words, “This is the worst part of my day!”
And when I’ve completed my run, I’ve said, “The worst part of my day is now over.”
The words in which we use to frame our thoughts are of utmost importance, the first line of defense, yet the most uncontrollable of the lot. They roll out before we’ve even had a chance to wake up and yawn. They lie quietly in the shadows of our brains, ready to ambush any quiet moment we chance upon — which is rare since as soon as our eyes open we’re off to the races battling one negative thought after another. (Wait, what? This isn’t your normal start to your day? We can’t be friends then.)
Typically, for most people, our days begin with the regrets of yesterday and the troubles of today. My biggest trouble, thankfully and gratefully, is this mile run. Well, there are other things but this one looms over me until I do it. It's laser-focused on the first 200 painstaking steps I take when I finally exit the comfy confines of my home and begin my journey into the wilds of Chappaqua. (Sounds like such an exotic place to live until you realize it’s nothing of the sort.)