Running is Hard.... but Worth it.

If you search ,the definition of “proud” this is what you’ll find:

Proud; adjective. feeling deep pleasure or satisfaction as a result of one's own achievements, qualities, or possessions or those of someone with whom one is closely associated.

I am proud of my family for who they are and how they’ve influenced me. I am proud of Marley, my best friend, for following her dreams. I am proud of my dog because he is really smart and cute but mostly because I trained him. I am proud of my friend Calley, for keeping her head held high when she was just evacuated from her school due to Hurricane Harvey.

I am so lucky to have so many people to be proud of.

If we’re honest, I think, we all want something or someone to be proud of. It proves that our effort wasn’t a waste.

One of my favorite things to do is reflect. In fact, I am proud of how I am able to reflect and become better from it. I’ve been doing it a lot recently. I’ve been asking myself the question, “would your 10 year old self be proud of you?” Some days, I really don’t know. I wonder if she would be disgusted at what she saw. Other days, I’m sure she would look up to me and hope to be just like that.

When I was 10. I was a mess, like most 10 year olds. I was scared. I was just starting to learn about God and who He was. He was making his presence known. I wasn’t really sure what to do with all these new feelings and so I cried a lot. I had moved to Colorado just 3 years before and boys started to look cute instead of revolting. I was in 6th grade with my (still) favorite teacher, playing kickball everyday running around wearing blue eyeshadow. When I was 10, I learned for the first time how, truly, impactful my voice was as I gave my 6th grade continuation speech. I started dreaming, big dreams. I had the mouth of a SAILOR and this very complicated on and off relationship.

It was awesome.

I think about that little weirdo and I can only smile. She was vibrant and full of life and happy. That girl is still inside of me shaking things up. Although, being in college, it’s a lot more complicated. As you get older, the problems seem to get more real and they become a lot heavier to hold. When I was 10, the world on my shoulders felt as light as a feather. However, now that I’m an adult it seems I’ve aged 60 years, because my shoulders feel frail at times.

The last few months, especially, of my life I’ve gotten to know this feeling very well. Living in Florida with no friends, it can be challenging to put yourself out there. Top that off with a breakup and it can feel incredibly lonely. Some days, you really don’t feel like doing anything. You feel like wallowing in your self pity. I did all the time, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t, because there was this little blondie in the back of my mind who kept telling me that she was proud. So, I kept going. I didn’t wallow in my pity because ultimately I knew it helped nothing.

It was hard. Sometimes, I felt like I was running on a treadmill. I was moving, but it didn't seem like I was getting anywhere. But I was.

I am no runner by any means. I ran track in high school and I was good but I didn't love it, so I quit. However, when I came to college I was going to do anything to stay away from the freshman 15. So, I started going to the gym. I never realized that running just to keep weight off would also teach me the importance of exercising my mind and soul.

Throughout this experience, I’ve learned that I hate treadmills. However, I also really love them. When you run on a treadmill you are just training your body to be better, stronger and more beautiful. You are progressing on the inside to become a better you. It is slow and painful. However, the day you notice the change, you will be proud.

On good days, I like to think about those articles that talk about this, or that celebrity and what they would tell their 17, 18 or 19 year old self. I try to reverse that and think what would 30 year old me tell me right now? Would 30 year old me give me a big hug and say, “you’re doing a good job” just like I so desperately hope she would? Would she say, “thank you, thank you for training and running on the treadmill even when you felt like you might die,” because it’s what made her who she is? Would she turn away in regret?  I don’t know, I hope she’d be proud.

I am proud of myself. I proud of how I have picked myself up time and time again. I’m proud of myself for feeling my emotions but not allowing the bad ones to linger. I am proud of myself for turning to God always. I am proud of myself for working hard to become that women who would be proud of the 19 year old typing before you.

So, remember who’re fighting for.

I’m fighting for the 10 year old with green eyes and blue eyeshadow who loved to be outside. I’m fighting for the girl with a goofy grin and a laugh filled with genuine joy. I’m fighting for the 30 year old woman who is resilient, kind, ambitious and above all Godly in how she carries herself and leads her family.

Be proud of yourself.

Trust the process and keep training. Keep running even when you feel like somewhere is nowhere. In reality, somewhere is inside of you. It’s who you are and this training will be worth it. In the meantime, just be glad that you’re still running because that, in and of itself, is something to be proud of.