Sunday, February 8, 2015

For Good Measure

I have swagger.

I do. I have for a while now. 

Recently, as I was looking at an ancient photo of 8 year old me, I saw myself in her eyes and thought, “I’ve finally grown into the woman that girl was meant to be.” She was brimming with swagger.

I don’t want to get into the details about where my swagger went, but for most of my adult life my swagger has been muted. It was there though, stuck to me, like a piece of lint on a wool coat.

Too small to use, too insignificant to get rid of, it sat there unnoticed until I took up running.

That’s when I started feeding it.

And little by little it grew into something worthwhile. I nurtured my swagger, I listened to it as it started talking back to the negative inner voice that haunts so many of us. Eventually my swagger started forming opinions on many things; it weighed in on my life choices.

It kicked the negative inner voice in the face a couple of times for good measure.

This week I realized that my swagger was my vulnerability.
This week I realized that my swagger is my vulnerability.

I embraced it, accepted it, and nurtured it, and because of that, I was able to achieve more. My swagger is the sword I used to beat back shame.

It is shame that told me I was a failure; it is shame that told me I should be afraid. 

Every day that I go out to run with Those People I Don't Know, I fail. I fail to keep up.  I fail to run as fast as they run. In short, I am a failure.

If keeping up is the measure of success, then I am a failure.

But what if LIFE is the measure of success?

In failing, I am living. In my failure I find laughter, I find strength, and I find the courage to go out and fail again.

I would rather epically fail trying to improve myself, than to sit on the sidelines waving a flag of mediocrity and watch as life passes. Certainly if I quit running with Those People I Don't Know, I won't fail anymore, but at least as a failure, I am in the mix.

My swagger's opinion is that the only way to succeed is to fail at something, and still show up tomorrow to run again.

~ savor the run ~   


Michelle said...

I'd really love to write something profound...but I'm pretty sure you just did. You are EPIC!

kat said...

Beautiful x