You stupid idiot.

No, I'm not talking to you; I'm talking to me. Did you know these are the words I have regularly said to myself? I would never, ever say it to you, and I'd be upset if I heard you say them to someone else. But I have said them regularly to myself. Out loud. It doesn't take much, either. Just a run over the curb or a spill of my drink, and that's what I've said without hesitation.

Usually the person I'm ugliest to is ME. At least 90% of the time. (Okay, my family might find that statistic hard to believe, but they're going to have to trust me. :))

The irony is that I absolutely can't stand to see people bullied or oppressed. My kids know that I will go bat kaka crazy on them if I get a whiff of that kind of behavior going on. Love God, love sushi, be kind to ALL of God's creation -- that's what I desire for them.

But when I've said ugly, disparaging things to myself?  Somehow that didn't count. Why not? There have been countless nights when I've laid my head down and asked for a day's worth of forgiveness, and I've not even considered the nasty things I've said to myself. Along with that, I've neglected to teach my children to be kind to themselves. I just flat out believed I deserved the terrible things I said to myself, and that's how it went.

Where I got this from, I have no idea.  But I'm not writing this post to beat myself up, because that would be kind of ironic (and I could could sooo go there). I write it because I bet there are others out there like me who value kindness, but they don't they believe that kindness needs to be extended to themselves. It does.

I remember hearing that famous Whitney Houston song "The Greatest Love of All" and not completely buying into the lyrics because it said "learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all". No, no, no! Loving God is the greatest love of all, said my holier-than-thou 13 year old self (wait, that description is redundant). Okay, perhaps I was technically right, but God so desperately loves me (ME. Jennifer. ME.), and that's John 3:16. He wanted me to be kind to myself because He created me, and that's a good thing. I was and am no less of God's creation. Here's a truth:  I am kinder to others when I practice kindness to myself.

Parenting gives me a whole new perspective, and that must be part of the reason why God uses the analogy so often in the Bible. When I hear my kids talk badly about themselves, I grieve. Why can't they see themselves as I see them? They're precious gifts from God. Go forth and be what God made you to be, you awesome creation! But it doesn't seem to happen that easily for my kids, and then aha!, I recognize myself in them (but I'm not going to beat myself up over that either. ;)).

(source)

I've come a looong way, baby. I'm not nearly as quick to cut myself down and be the self-inflicted "mean girl" as I used to be. Knowing my worth is not a haughty vice - it's believing I am who God says I am, and that's only a good thing.  So, I've made a promise to be nicer to myself. Will you do me a favor and be nicer to yourself too? It helps the world go 'round -- in a good way. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that both God and I think you're kind of a big, wonderful deal. :)


Comparison is the thief of joy. ~Theodore Roosevelt

Doing Things I Cannot Do

Barton Springs last week

Learning to swim these past 3 months has been difficult enough for this not-so-much lover of water. And open water swims? That's a whole new level of terrify. All I can think about as I stand on a lake shore is how there is no escape route. I can walk anytime when I'm tired of running, and I can slow my cadence if a hill is killing me on the bike. But I will D-I-E (perish, I tell ya') a horrible death if I get too tired of swimming. I'm a little addicted to living, I really am, and I have no desire to die in that horribly claustrophobic way. I'd rather fall out of an airplane and splat on concrete.

So, here I am, with a solid resume of 42 years of water phobia under my belt, still plugging along at TRIathlon training. Why, you ask? I'm not so terribly sure, except to say that I believe that I should. Nobody would fault me if I gave up swimming tomorrow, and I know that. You'd all understand. We all have insecurities, anxieties, and even phobias, and we should give each other grace for them. 

A funny thing happened on the way to my first marathon, though. I became bolder. With each difficult thing I did, I was emboldened to do more difficult things. The physical gave way to the spiritual. As I strengthened my body the Spirit strengthened within me. I have always said that I would never do triathlons because of that darn swim part. So after the marathon, guess what I decided to do?

With this new emboldened feeling, I wish I could report to you my massive successes in open water swimming. Um, no. I'm inching towards getting better, but I still tense up completely. I can't make it 50m in open water without holding on to a swim can and breathing like Godzilla was on my tail. I seriously need some sort of hypno-psycho-behavioral-therapy. Anybody got suggestions?

Last week, I started back to open water swimming (at Barton Springs) after a 2 1/2 week absence. I stood in the shallow water for what seemed like hours, talking myself into diving in. Oh my goodness, it was not easy for me to start up again. I'm sure the lifeguards had some sort of walkie-talkie "code-yellow" action on my bright pink swim cap standing there. "Swimming poser with a look of terror detected in yonder pink cap. Keep your eyes peeled for her," is what I imagine them to say.

And like in marathon training, I told myself, "Ain't nobody gonna swim this for you. YOU. Have. Got to do this." (Seriously, that's exactly what I tell myself. The bad grammar double-negative stuff just gets it through my brain more quickly.)

So, I dived in and took MY leap of faith.  So what if I stopped every 10m to hold on to that God's gift of a side-bar? I dived. ;)

The long-awaited rains have fallen hard upon the thirsty ground
and carved their way to where the wild and rushing river can be found
And like the rains I have been carried here to where the river flows, yeah
My heart is racin' and my knees are weak as I walk to the edge
I know there is no turning back once my feet have left the ledge
And in the rush I hear a voice, it's telling me it's time to
Take the leap of faith
So here I go

I'm diving in
I'm going deep
In over my head I wanna be
Caught in the rush
Lost in the flow
In over my head I wanna go
The river's deep
The river's wide
The river's water is alive
So sink or swim
I'm diving in
I'm diving in

There is a supernatural power in this mighty river's flow
It can bring the dead to life, and it can fill an empty soul
And give a heart the only thing worth livin' and worth dyin' for, yeah
But we will never know the awesome power of the grace of God
Until we let ourselves get swept away into this holy flood
So if you'll take my hand, we'll close our eyes and count to three
And take the leap of faith
Come on let's go


("Dive" by Steven Curtis Chapman)


I'ma going in. See you in that crazy water. 


How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?  ~ Satchel Paige

The Million Dollar Question: Are You a "Runner"?

       

They have it right. 

Even though I like to run, I have the hardest time answering that question. Every now and then I'm asked, "Are you a runner?" For the life of me, I can't manage to answer in the affirmative. Now, I know that for those who run only when chased, anybody who runs seems like a "runner". But the answer, for me at least, is not so easy.

Technically, the suffix "er" means "one who". Therefore, runner means "one who runs". Well, okay, I do run some. But I always want to add, "I'm not so fast.  In my entire life I've never participated in any sport, much less track or cross country.  I only started running in my late 30's.  I have no formal training whatsoever."  Ah, how I can go on and on with my (perceived) running inadequacies.  There are a bajillion people faster and better trained than I. Really there are.

Guess what?!  (For what it's worth, this is NOT where I originally thought the post would go.) I'm going to name it and claim it anyway.  I. Am. A. Runner.  There, I said it, if only in writing.  It brings me joy (especially in cooler weather).  I'm the better for it.  I try my best every time.  I want to run, and I want to get better. If that's not a runner, then I don't know what is.

So, the next time someone asks me, "Are you a runner," I'm going to look them straight in the eye and reply with an emphatic, "Yes!"

Try me.

What's your name it and claim it?  Do it.

Don't bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.  ~ William Faulkner

< less than

Today I started my first "long run" with a Rogue training group.  Since I'm hoping to run a marathon February 2012, I figured joining in a little distance training every now and then might be a good idea. (I'm clever like that.)  Cautious of my abilities, I opted to run the 4 mile route.  Not coincidentally, it was the shortest one to chose from.

Now, I'm sure better people than I would join right in a strange running group and feel at right at home.  Not I.  Conjured in my head were thoughts of 90 lb gaunt Rogue men with a 5 min/mile marathon pace.  As I drove to meet the 7:00 a.m. running group, I had to stuff away thoughts of inadequacy.

"What if I'm going to be the slowest person there?"

"What if I can't run the 4 miles I try to run? I'll look like a fool."

"You're crazy to try this.  You don't know these guys, and they already know each other."

And the emotional clincher, "You're stupid to feel stupid."  Undo that psychological conundrum.

Guess what?  The monster at the end of the book was not there. There was a gaunt 5 min/mile marathon-pace coach, but he was really nice and liked my running shoes.  People of all shapes, sizes and ages were represented.  And they were the same kind of different as me.  I ran the 4 miles without a hitch (unless you call needing windshield wipers for my sweat a hitch).  More importantly, it was very, very worth it.  If for no other reason than another momentary fear was conquered.

What's your ever-so-slight (or massive) feeling of inadequacy today?  Step right through, my friend, because good things wait on the other side.  Jeremiah 29:11

Do one thing every day that scares you.  ~ Eleanor Roosevelt