A million years ago when I was a Marine reservist, I’d wake up, run five miles, do some other calisthenics exercises, then get on with my day. I used to do this every day. . . until I got out of the system. Then I slept in and never ran again.
If I’m honest with myself, I miss it. And over the years I’ve thought about restarting that regiment. I liked the discipline of the physical training, I liked feeling strong and fit. Perhaps most of all, I liked surprising myself with what I could do as an athlete.
But nowadays I’m busy. And tired. And overweight. And I probably need to look out for my joints as a result. And I’m not as young as I used to be. And nobody needs to see me running about in spandex at 6:30 in the morning. Plus I can’t find a sports bra that actually works when I run. And other runners will probably think I’m stupid.
So instead of getting up and going out, I stay inside. And I continue to miss running.
Except I’m doing quite a bit of facilitation work with U.S. Army Special Forces units and other military groups. And every time they invite me to join them for their teambuilding PT formation run, I always meet them at the finish line instead of strapping on a pair of sneakers.
After all, these folks are super-fit bad asses, and I’m . . . not. I’m more like Dennis from Run, Fatboy, Run.
But when these military men and women run towards me and the finish line, all in sync and running to a motivating cadence, I remember what it feels like to do this and every cell in my body wants to join in and run with them.
So what the heck? If I want it so much, why don’t I start to pursue it? I can start slow and build my way up. I can get my ass out of bed and get in a run before starting my day. I really CAN do this. There’s nothing that realistically is stopping me: I can physically do the run, I’ve got shoes, I’ve got a safe neighborhood (or hotel gyms) to run in. I could do this tomorrow morning.
But I don’t.
Instead, I hide behind my wall.
The Wall
Marathon runners have known about the Wall for ever: that moment in the course when you bonk out and can’t move forward another step. Even if you’d been cruising along pretty well up until that point, all of the sudden you positively, absolutely, CANNOT progress. Your body won’t cooperate and your mind doesn’t want to cooperate.
The Wall stands between where you are and your finish line. It’s huge: you can’t go around it, you can’t climb over it. It’s overwhelming, it overwhelms us, and it sucks our motivation and will like a milkshake through a straw.
Here’s another painful truth about the Wall:
You don’t have to be a runner to run into it.
It’s a barrier of our own construction. . . the mental construct of our own doubts, fears, and inaction. Built over time, thought by thought, brick by brick: this is what makes it so damn powerful.
This Wall is the work of a lifetime. Our lifetime.
Beyond the wall is what we want. What we long for. What we wish we could have, do, be.
We know it’s there, but how do we get through?
If we can’t go over or under or around, how can we break on through to the other side? How do we pass through the barrier of our own thoughts and empower ourselves to go for what we truly want?
How do we actually break on through to the other side?
I’d love to tell you that all you have to do is flip your thinking, focus on the positives and reframe the negatives in your thinking. Make a list of all the things that hold you back, then flip those list entries into positives. Heck, I was a psychology major who used to work in the social services sector: I’m no stranger to Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT). I’ve got notebooks and diaries FULL of me going through these sorts of exercises. . . even for running. And still I sit on my ass.
So what does it really take to break on through to the other side of that mental wall?
Good question. I have a theory that I’d like you to help me test.
Because the next time one of my special forces teams asks me to run with them, I don’t want to hide behind my wall. I want to say “yes”.
This theory relies on two things:
The Spatula and the Penguin
The what?? I know. . . bear with me.
1. The Spatula:
One of my favorite movies is Run, Fatboy, Run. It’s about a man (Dennis, played brilliantly by Simon Pegg) who, years after running away from the very-pregnant love of his life and leaving her at the altar, decides that the best thing he can do to make amends is run a marathon. (Never mind that he can’t run 10 yards without falling down and getting a nasty rash in his scrotal zone.)
Anyway, once he says that he’s going to run this marathon, his landlord (very much a non-runner) decide to become one of Dennis’ running coaches. How does he do this? He follows Dennis on a scooter and smacks him with a spatula when Dennis starts to complain, whine, or otherwise slack off on his training runs.
It’s not a malicious smacking. (Well, maybe it’s a wee bit deliciously malicious!) But it’s EXACTLY what Dennis needs to run and keep running. Left to his own devices, no matter how much he wants or needs to run this race, Dennis wouldn’t actually get up and run by himself. He needs someone who cares about him enough to tell him some hard truths when he needs to hear them, to help keep Dennis on track.
The spatula-smacking is Dennis’ training wheels, if you will, for building up the internal and physical strength to run for himself. The spatula provides more than motivation in the moment: his spatula-wielding friend provides much-needed ACCOUNTABILITY for Dennis to do what he said he’d do: run the London Marathon with just 30 days to train.
Will you be a true friend?
For me to be able to say “yes” to my next military team (currently scheduled for 90 days from now), I could really use your help.
Would you be willing to smack me with a spatula on occasion? (Not literally, of course! Sheesh!) What I mean is: would you be willing to help keep me accountable for the things I truly want while I build the internal and external strength to pursue them on my own?
This could be as easy as asking me about how my training’s going for running with that military crew a month and a half from now.
And if you sense me slacking off on my training, feel free to send me a comment. I’ll get what you mean!
2. The Penguin
While the spatula provides accountability (and some comic relief), it doesn’t provide true motivation for Dennis to run — and finish — his marathon. Dennis has to find that for himself. And the same is true for each and every one of us. The spatula may help me start running, but it won’t keep me running on my own.
For this, I need to channel my inner Penguin.
John “The Penguin” Bingham, that is. He’s the founder of the slow runner movement, making it okay for slowpoke runners like me to go out, hit the road, and have a good time competing with myself when I run. Pushing myself to become more of my best self, without pushing myself so hard that I hurt myself physically by running more than I can. . . and without hurting myself emotionally by comparing myself to how I used to look and be able to run back in the day.
The Penguin, to me, represents a sort of Zen running: be here now, in this body, and allow yourself to enjoy the run. As the Penguin says:
“The miracle isn’t that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start.” -John Bingham
This “starting” isn’t a one-time thing, either. And it doesn’t happen simply at the start of a race. It happens at the start of EVERY run. Every time we pursue what we choose to have, do, be. It is a continuous process of becoming.
The Real Break-through
Spatulas can motivate us externally, and the courage to start can inspire us to take step after step. But what truly motivates us to turn these nice ideas into something more? What will motivate US to be willing to start again and again, every day, to grow and draw forth more of our best selves? This is where our real breakthrough occurs.
I think it all comes down to a simple tipping point:
When the pain of what we barricade away exceeds the pain of allowing ourselves to have it, that’s when we break on through to the other side.
Ultimately we have the power to break down our own barriers. Once we realize that we are the only thing standing in our own way, then we are closer than ever to picking up that sledgehammer and knocking that wall down.
When I look at my life, I impress myself in many ways. I’ve broken through many interior walls both personally and professionally. And yet this mental wall around doing something I used to love — and truly miss — still remains.
I’m sick and tired of mourning the things I used to have or be able to do, at the expense of neglecting myself today.
I’ve been barricading a better life for myself behind countless fears and excuses.
And I’m done with it. Perhaps you are, too.
If so, I’ll smack you with a spatula if you will! ;^)
And who knows? You may see me out there running with my next brigade assignment after all!
I cannot wait to see what YOU draw forth!
