Running Out of My Comfort Zone

I'm jogging along the street that goes parallel to my house, almost finished and wondering - have I done it? I've been running for several minutes non-stop, which is not my norm. I've been trying to build up my stamina by walk-running. Run 3 minutes, walk 2 minute, run 4, walk 1 - you get the idea. It's how I managed to run 10 km and complete the Vancouver Sun Run. But that was ten years ago, after three months of training. This summer, my goal was to be able to run 20 minutes straight by practicing once a week and slowly building to it. In other words, I was not going to kill myself trying to get there.

You see, exercise has never been something I've been good at. I have a long list of embarrassments when it comes to exercise. There was the Turtle Running club that I joined after doing the Sun Run because I'm so slow, and then found out I couldn't even keep up with them. There was the rollerblading race I signed up for at age 14 which happened in the torrential rain and they had to keep the race track open just for me to finish. There were the many fitness classes I took when I worked at the YWCA only to find myself tripping over my step in step class and drowning in deep water aquafit. And so many yoga classes I've taken whenever I remember I love yoga but forget I can't bend or transition like anyone else in said classes. And every time I quit.

So I lower the bar for myself. Lower and lower until I decide exercise maybe isn't that important. My life is pretty full as is. And as I look around at my life, I see that I use this excuse elsewhere. As I get more established in my career, family, and finances, I create ultimate control over my life to make it as comfortable as possible. That's the dream, isn't it? The marriage and 1.5 children, the fulfilling careers that pay for the house and two cars and summer vacations. And I've done that now. Hubby & I - we've accomplished it - our life of comfort.

But here's the problem with that. It gets too comfortable. So much so that I don't want to make changes that take me out of my comfort zone. And I preach to my students that they need to be open to move away for a job or be flexible to do something they didn't think they would do. But in my own life, when our friends suggest we go camping for a weekend, anxiety rises within me. That means I have to buy stuff, pack stuff, sleep on the ground, take Lucas out of his routine, live without my bathroom for two days. Or when my parents up and sell their house after 15 years and have three weeks to pack, my mind is spinning with the impossibility of getting it all done and its not even my problem. Or when someone suggests they are going to come and drop by, I feel insulted because it means rearranging plans and furniture.

When did I become the old person who can't stomach change or spontaneity?

And how does this effect how I parent Lucas? I carefully explain everything that's going to happen, get buy in from him on each next step, and shelter him from too much information. I protect his routine as if it were a fragile component of his body. I teach him about the calendar so he always knows what to expect when. He doesn't roll with things or handle transition well and for some reason I wonder why.

And so this summer, I find myself shifting. I find myself seeking out situations where I feel less than competent. I find myself taking advantage of opportunities to get out of that comfort zone. We did go camping with out good friends and had a blast and want to go again. We packed in a 10-day road trip with no hotel reservations, baffling our nearest and dearest. I'm in a new job with the sole intention to learn each day. And while it means I need to suck up my pride and be in a place of humility and openness much more than I would normally choose, the results are worth it.

And so today when I went out running after a few weeks of not, a few weeks of vacation and way too many baked goods and ice cream cones. And I decided - I'm going to just see if I can do it. Forget this inching up to 20 minutes of running. Let's see if I can just do it.

And as I ran, my mind was racing and I didn't even notice the first several minutes. I was imagining a new website for myself and blissfully unaware of everything around me. Then it got harder. There was a break between songs, a van I had to run around, and suddenly I could feel my calf muscles, hear my heavy breathing, see I how far I was from home. I would normally stop here, switch to a walk, having reached the limit of my comfort zone.

But today was different. I remembered in that moment what happens on the other side of this agony. I remembered my days of training 10 years ago, when in the middle of my hour run, suddenly something else would take over. The muscle aches would subside and this extra engine would turn on inside that would propel my forward. I waited for it to happen, pounding the pavement rhythmically. And then suddenly, there it was. Something inside me revved up and I was running faster and feeling nothing. Here it was - the high that makes runners run.

And as I turned the corner onto my street, I wondered - have I done it? I pulled my old ipod off its clip to check the time. And there it was - proof I'd run 21 minutes straight.  

Proof that I can do more than I think I can when I allow myself to push through the comfort zone. Proof that we have what we need inside us to get through. Proof that there is still so much more I can do.