Success?

I’ve been going around with myself for months trying, for the first time, to write. I’ve set aside time, I’ve read books, I’m taking a class, I’ve forced myself to stay in the chair when I want to leap out of it and get a third breakfast, and I’m doing it. I think.

However, if true success can be measured by results and production, I’m failing for sure--I am not writing great works. But, I almost don’t care if anyone else reads what I write, the process is so good for me. It’s difficult, but exactly what I envisioned when I decided to live a writing life--Engaging with my self, my God and my world on every level—emotionally, psychologically, spiritually, soulfully—using writing as my tool. Whatever results from that life might be worth reading, might be “art,” but it might not. Regardless, it will be mine, and that is enough for me, at least for now. My purpose for delving into creativity and producing my own work is to help me get closer to who I can be, to become more myself, to discover and explore, to engage.

I’m finally appreciating that it’s the process, the journey, and not the destination or the result, that is valuable. So in that, I am succeeding.

Unprepared

You know that feeling you have when you show up for a test and you suddenly realize how unprepared you are? How you could not get the reality of that test into your head, could not bring yourself to care, until the moment the teacher hands it to you?

Well that will be me feeling that, Sunday morning, 8 am at the Army 10-Miler. I am not remotely prepared. I've only been running 3-4 miles, a couple times a week. I do other exercise and I'm in reasonable shape but I've only been running 3-4 miles. Not 5-6, no 8 mile preps, just 3-4.

I'm in trouble.

I have great excuses--I just moved for crying out loud. I've been settling in, getting jobs, working on more important things, and I have this achilles tendon issue.... But really, I couldn't bring myself to care, couldn't accept the reality of race day actually showing up this soon. Damn. This is going to hurt. Why? Because it's a RACE, and I should be prepared. It's not a "fun-run," I'm not supposed to WALK only because I couldn't bring myself to train.

Truthfully, I'm not sure how this is going to go down. Today I'll go pick up my packet and all the runners who are excited to beat their "personal best" times will be all hyped up. That's where I'll start to get the sinking feeling I'm in trouble. Then I have a busy Friday night and Saturday planned, so I'll kind of remember to drink a few glasses of water here and there, but only in the back of my mind will I even be aware of the race. Not until the alarm goes off Sunday and I'm out there in the crowd of bouncing runners itching to get started will I really get the stomach drop you get when the teacher hands you that test. Yikes.

Then comes the unknown. I don't know if I'll decide to give it my all, gut it out, and endure all manner of suffering for 90-ish minutes, or if I'll even be able to. Hey, maybe I'll feel great, all my cross-training will pay off and my body will rise to the occasion. Yoga is good for increasing speed and endurance, right? Yeah, sure.

Or, and this is sounding better and better, maybe I'll realize I'm not being graded on this test and I'll just enjoy the day. Maybe I'll even be thinking what a great day it is for an autumn walk.