A story about limiting beliefs and other musings from my Sunday run.
I had every reason NOT to go on my run this morning. It was thundering and lightening, I had some PF heaviness, I had trouble going back to sleep after the baby woke up around 5am, and the couch and a cup of coffee was calling my name.
But Sunday is my morning to run sans children, so as soon as I made the rugrats their pancakes, the rain stopped, and I was out the door.
I started off and was really feeling my pelvic floor ...ugh.
Maybe I should stop? Maybe I'll just walk? I don't want to make it worse. I've gotten this far without symptoms, you better not run.
Boy, have I heard this story before. I've told it to myself at least 1000x. I am really good at self-sabotage. This is also not a story unique to me. I hear it All. THE. TIME. in my office.
"I can't lift heavy because I have prolapse."
"I'm afraid to walk because my symptoms will be worse."
"I don't run because I might leak."
"I don't do crunches because I have a diastasis."
We stop doing things we love that made us feel good because we've heard or read somewhere on the interwebs that we shouldn't. We question ourselves and hold back, not fully possessing the awareness that our bodies are strong, resilient, capable. And sometimes they just need a little help.
Instead of stopping my run, I paused to do a few hypopressive postures and a little breath work before I took off again. Still feeling my pelvic floor, I turned the music up and kept plugging along. This was the coolest morning we've had in Charleston since May and I determined to take advantage.
At the 3/4 mile mark, I realized my symptoms were gone and I felt pretty good! Ha! Take that body... I showed you! To make a long story short, I kept on running, dodging puddles, in my old shoes no less. I stopped back by the house after 2.5 miles to pick up my biggest on his bike and kept going with the plan to run just 1 more mile.
And I kept going...for a total of 6 miles. The longest I have ever run. In My Life. Just to prove to myself that I could do it.
And to think I wasn't going to even go.
Lesson: Just put the shoes on. Make the phone call. Take the first step. You'll be glad you did.
- Meg