Strength in Strides

The Shelby from 8 months ago would never believe that she would run 12 miles ever again. One mile DID feel like 12. I felt sluggish, out of breath, and mentally and physically weak. I knew it was okay, because it was the season I was in, but I was so intimidated by the work it would take just to get back to a baseline.
Do you want to know what really lights the fire in me though? The voice in my head that says, “you can’t do it”. The self doubt I feel when I think about goals that seem impossible is what feeds my desire to prove myself wrong. When I’m in these runs, I think about how good it feels to add it to my list of “things we didn’t think we could do, but we did”. I think about what I want my actions to prove to my daughter- that many people will doubt you can do something, they may scoff at it or ask why, and you might even convince yourself for a brief period that you can’t do it either. But the second that doubt is placed into your mind, you MUST prove yourself wrong.
It doesn’t matter what the goal means to other people, it doesn’t matter if it’s been done before or if it’s someone else’s version of “easy”. What matters is showing up for yourself, and proving to yourself that you can do the hard and seemingly impossible things. Because once those are accomplished, you realize the only one who decides to place limits on yourself- and break them- is you.

Today, I did my first postpartum run. There’s no pretty picture of me looking “fit”, or like I felt SoOoOo good after… because that wasn’t my reality. What I really felt was f*cking annoyed and somewhat discouraged at the road that lies ahead.
Am I so grateful to be cleared to run? Absolutely. And as I set out, I tried to remember the last time I was able to run without extra weight.

But then I also remembered how it felt to open my stride and feel my lungs burn, how it felt to turn the corner and see home after a long run… how it felt to just be oh, I don’t know - really on my game with running. And you know what I felt instead? Annoyed by how heavy my feet felt, uncomfortable with the extra jiggle around my waist, miffed that my thighs are rubbing together.
And I got home, and I stood in the garage and I thought, “well s**t, this is going to be tough”. It’s one thing to strive for constant improvement in yourself, but it’s another to know there’s a long road ahead just to get back to your ‘normal’. It feels slightly insulting, and really discouraging. I’ve always competed against myself to be better, I’ve never had to compete to just get back to my baseline. But alas, here we are.

So, today’s post doesn’t hold some monumental shift in thinking or “aha!” moment… it’s just another mom trying to find her way back to a normal (a new normal), and not really wanting to embrace the whole “love the skin you’re in” thing right now. Yeah, it’s done some amazing things and I will always love it, but it’s reality to also miss what it used to be. It’s a daunting road up ahead, it’s going to be a fight, but what are you gonna do- give up? Nah.
Let’s try again tomorrow.

I told you all a while back that I had a hard time accepting the physical changes my body was going through, but I decided to love it anyways and document it. And now, we are at the end. It has been 9 months of evolving and accepting this new part of me that didn’t exist before. What an honor it has been to remain mobile and active through it all. I use to have an “all or nothing” mentality when it came to fitness, particularly with pregnancy. I had an idea, an image of who I thought I would be during pregnancy. I thought I needed to either be the girl who was pushing the extremes or I wasn’t “gritty enough”. But that’s just not life, and that’s not always practical. Pregnancy forced me to accept myself. Also, what does it matter how much others are active in their pregnancy? That doesn’t make me any less of an athlete. I decided that consistency always wins, and what mattered most to me (and my baby!), was that I never gave up trying, day after day after day. So I showed up for us, no matter how big or small the movement was, and I watched in awe as I loved the image I started to see in these videos; a woman who was blessed enough to experience what it means to carry and produce another life. THIS, to me, is the quintessential human experience. I decided to embrace it all. Staying active, whether it was a walk, a 30-minute workout video on the TV, a modified MURPH for Memorial Day, or deciding to call it 15 minutes into a workout because it just wasn’t feeling right that day… it helped guide me toward the end. Moving my body has and always will be the one thing that remains within my power, and it is truly such a powerful tool and form of medicine. Continuing to stay active and workout with this big ol’ belly made me feel empowered as all hell… it’s already remarkable that we as females have the capability to carry another life within us, and moving my body in tandem with that experience only amplified the pride. Mama, it doesn’t have to be all or nothing when it comes to fitness and pregnancy- whatever you do IS enough. There may be someone stronger, faster, fitter… but consistency? Being relentless? Thats what matters to both you and baby ❤️

On a long run the other day, the air was stagnant and humid. The sun was relentless, and I could feel the salty sweat gathering around my forehead and dripping into my eyes, stinging and forcing me to blink hard.

And then, a breeze came. Oh the sweet relief it brought… it was the most beautiful sensation. The sweat that was once an inconvenience and pain now felt cool and delicious on my skin.

On any other day, a breeze would be just a breeze. I wouldn’t relish in the relief it brought, in fact I might even be annoyed with it. But in my pain and discomfort, the relief it brought was that much better.

And it occurred to me that that is the way I must continue to perceive pain and hardship throughout my own experiences in life.

“One who is full loathes honey, but to one who is hungry everything bitter is sweet.” Proverbs 27:7

There is no avoiding pain and suffering throughout our lifetime, it’s a necessary evil. But without the misery, how would I know how good it feels?

How good it feels to accomplish a lifelong goal… How good it feels to overcome the unthinkable… how good it feels to beat the odds… how good it feels to experience a miracle…

How would I know how divine the breeze is?