The Run
I’ve never been a fast runner. Ok, let’s get real. I’ve never even been a fast jogger. Let’s just say if I competed in the Hunger Games, I’d be an easy target from the get-go.
This is something I’ve known since I was in 6th grade at Catholic school. I dreaded running those laps in P.E. or playing soccer. In high school, I focused on volleyball because I had a mean, left-handed spike and I didn’t have to run long distances.
In college, many of my close friends were athletic. They were strong, fast runners. The university football stadium was open to students at night back in the ‘90s and we’d run a few times a week. Out on the expansive field, I spent most of my time comparing myself to them. I’m not good enough to run with them, I’d tell myself. I still went with them, but I’d fast walk while they lapped me.
I lived with this belief for a long time. The truth was I liked the feeling of running but avoided it because I knew I wasn’t good at it. I never joined a running group because I wasn’t fast enough and never could go very far. I didn’t want people to feel obligated to wait for me to catch up. I also didn’t want to be seen as not being good at something.
About 6 years ago, I decided I was fed up. I wanted to learn how to run, to get better and to be faster. I didn’t want “being a subpar runner” to be part of my identity anymore. So, I decided to train for the half-marathon with my friend, Tonya. I know what you’re thinking. Why not just start with a 5K? Nope. I went all in on becoming a runner. My messed-up logic told me that real runners go for at least 13.1 miles.
I trained for nine long months. I ran 5 times a week at different speeds and paces. I learned how to properly train, and my body learned new ways of moving. My body hurt but I took care of it.
I thought the real prize was getting into shape, learning to run faster, and go farther. Those things happened, but the real change happened within me:
I didn’t become a fast runner. I learned how to keep going even when I wanted to stop.
I didn’t lap others. I learned it didn’t matter how many people ran faster than me.
I didn’t get distracted by the fast runners moving past me in the race. I relied on my training and ran the way I knew how. My way.
I realized people who matter to me weren’t judging me. They were rooting me on for taking a risk and trying something out of my comfort zone.
I confronted that little voice inside of me telling me I wasn’t good enough and I didn’t deserve to be running. I told myself I do deserve to experience the joy of hard work and accomplishment.
I finished in the last group of half-marathoners. I think some of the fast walkers may have made the same time as I did. But for the first time in my life, it didn’t matter how fast or far I went. No longer was I held back by old beliefs about myself as a runner. I didn’t move swiftly past the discomfort of trying something new or avoid it altogether. I moved through it deliberately and was transformed.
Let’s talk about limiting beliefs. Beliefs are the lens through which we view our world. They are deeply embedded in our patterns of thought and action. When we’re willing to confront those beliefs that limit us, change becomes possible. And like my running experience, the physical changes I anticipated weren’t the ones that created seismic shifts within me. It was what I learned about myself and the resiliency skills I built that moved the mental mountain in me.
Our limiting beliefs are often deeply rooted. The first step is to become aware of what may be holding us back. Here are some work examples I’ve heard from clients:
I want to change my career but I’m too old.
I want to go for the leadership role, but my colleagues and boss don’t see me that way.
I want to move into a different part of my company, but I don’t have the experience.
I’ll never be marketable after being a stay-at-home parent for the last 10 years.
What are your limiting beliefs that hold you back from getting what you really want?
The lessons I learned when I confronted my limiting belief about running continue to pay dividends. Those lessons led me to start my own business, accept my leadership strengths and growth areas, and become a better partner and parent. It made me a better human. It turns out it wasn’t about running after all.
And in the spirit of full transparency…I don’t even run anymore. Turns out I’m just fine walking. Actually, I prefer it.
To learn how to confront your limiting beliefs and move your mental mountain, set a complimentary coaching session with Jessica that includes nifty tools and techniques .