Run Grateful ♥

Running seems to be one of those things in life—you either love it or you hate it. 

I’m one of ‘those people’ who happen to love it ♡; and not just for the physical benefits but because it’s such good therapy. 

When I’m worked up or stressed out, it’s a calming dose of fresh air and sunshine🌞 (or rain!☔). 

When I’m weary, it energizes me. 

When I’m focused on my imperfections it reminds me to be grateful for all my body’s 💪capable of. It’s forward motion when I’m stuck in the past. It can even break down things like worry and disappointment into nothing more than sweat.

Of course, sometimes, it’s just plain fun.🎆 Something to look forward to. The excitement of an event.💃 A collection of race bibs and tee shirts. 🎽

A hobby. A habit—one I feel good about and that’s introduced me to some pretty amazing people over the years. It’s a community, and all anyone has to do to become a part of it is participate.🎶

Not that it isn’t challenging… some days more so than others. But the thing is, when you’re out there pushing past ‘easy’ and ‘comfortable’ something happens that makes all the effort worthwhile—thoughts become clearer, emotions surface, doubts are confronted and fears get conquered. It’s a beautiful thing. 

A gift. 🎁 A blessing… one I truly am grateful for… every time I’m out there.

You are a runner

Even if you haven’t actually run,

Even if you're overweight,

Even if you were always the kid picked last in gym class,

Even if you’re clumsy,

Even if you don’t own a single piece of fitness equipment,

You ARE a runner.

You don’t have to run fast to be a runner.

You don’t have to be skinny to be a runner.

You don’t have to run marathons to be a runner.

You ONLY have to want to run.

Take your first step along your path to joyful running right now by writing down all the reasons you can’t run, can’t be fit, and can’t possibly become an athlete.

Then crumple up that list with all the force you can muster and toss it in the trash.

Trash those can'ts. You can run.

You are a runner.

♥These are my running partners♥.

Some friendships have been forged by

💗the dedication and pain,

💙by defeat and by accomplishment,

💚by mud and by sweat,

💛by laughter and by tears.

Friends who have seen each other when we look our worst and when we look our best, when we feel like we could collapse and when we've won our biggest victory.

Friends who encourage us when we want to stop, stick with us when we're about to fall, and run beside us not just in the races but every day.

These are the types of friendships that don't fade with time and don't dwindle with distance.

💝These are running partners💝.

Letter to my son

5:30 am, and your hand can’t make it to the alarm clock before the voices in your head tell you it’s too early, too dark and too cold to get out of bed. 💤

Aching muscles lie still in rebellion, pretending not to hear your brain commanding them to move. A legion of voices is giving you permission to hit the snooze button and go back to dreamland.

But you didn’t ask their opinion.

The voice you chose to listen to is one of defiance. A voice that says there was a reason why you set that alarm in the first place. So sit up, put your feet on the floor and don’t look back because we’ve got work to do.

Welcome to the grind.

For what is each day but a series of conflicts between the right way and the easy way. 

10,000 streams span out like a river delta before you, each one promising the path of least resistance.

The thing is, you’re headed upstream. And when you make that choice and turn your back on what’s comfortable, safe, and what some would call common sense, well, that’s day 1. 

From there, it only gets tougher. So just make sure this is something you want because the easy way out will always be there, ready to wash you away. All you have to do is pick up your feet.

But you aren’t going to, are you? With each step comes the decision to take another. You are on your way now, but this is no time to dwell on how far you have come.

You are in a fight against an opponent you can’t see, but, oh, you can feel them on your heels, can’t you? Feel them breathing down your neck.

Do you know who they are?

That is you!!

Your fears, doubts, and insecurities lined up like a firing squad ready to shoot you out of the sky. But don’t lose heart. 💗 While they aren’t easily defeated, they are far from invincible.

Remember, this is the grind.

There is a battle royal between you and your mind, your body, and the devil on your shoulder who tells you this is just a game, a waste of time, and your opponent is stronger than you.

Drown out the voice of uncertainty with the sound of your own heartbeat. 💓

Burn away your self-doubt with the fire underneath you. 🔥

Remember what you are fighting for, and always remember momentum is a cruel mistress. She can turn on the dime with the smallest mistake. She is always searching for the weak place in your armour, the one little thing you forgot to prepare for.

So, as long as the devil is hiding the details, the question remains: is that all you got? Are you sure?

And when the answer is yes, and you have done all you can to prepare yourself for battle, it’s time to go forth and boldly face your enemy.

The enemy within.

Only now you must take that fight into the open, into hostile territory. You are a lion in a field of lions, hunting the same elusive prey with a desperate starvation that says VICTORY is the only thing that can keep you alive.

So believe that voice that says:

you can run a little faster, 

you can play a little harder, 

and that to you, the laws of physics are merely a suggestion.

Nobody can judge effort. Because effort is between you and you. 

Every day is a new day. And every moment is a new moment. 

So now you have to show them you are a different creature than you were five minutes ago.

So rise and shine!

Chasing dreams

We like chasing dreams.

We are kindred spirits in this regard.

Whether your dream is running across South Africa, tackling a marathon, or completing your first 5km, it really doesn't matter. 

When you distil it all, we don't run for the trophies or the records or the recognition; we run because a rapidly beating heart pumps more life through our veins.

 

Our ultimate calling is not to arrive at the finish line in a composed state but rather to stagger in breathlessly, totally annihilated and on the verge of collapse, proudly knowing in our hearts that we have run our race, which was glorious. 

Whether you end up with a medal being placed around your neck or an IV line being placed into your arm, the inner bliss is the same. You have waged your war, and you have emerged victorious.

You are content. If you are never to take another step, you will forever remain satisfied. The job is done.

That is, until the next one. 

Yeah, every runner knows the feeling.

I ♥ to run

♥I think that sometimes we only talk about the good parts of running♥as if there weren’t any bad parts.

Running sucks. It does. ♥It makes my legs and lungs hurt, and just about every other part of my body.

My body basically feels like a moving bucket of ouch.♥ I can’t breathe, I sweat in my eyes, I smell gross, and I can’t hang out with my husband because ♥I spend 99.9% of my free time running. ♥Just running♥.

Some days when I do intervals,♥ I want to cry. I want to lay on my back in the middle of the ♥road and scream at the sky because it’s been forever since my times improved and I literally in that moment, want nothing more than to improve.♥

But something♥ keeps me on my feet, and I hobble over to the water station, and when my running partner tells me to, I get my ass back on the line, and I run my heart ♥ out. But that is what running is.♥

I hate it, ♥I despise it,♥ but it’s become a part of me. No matter how much it hurts and drives me to the ends of hell and back, I would never let it go.♥ Running will never let me go. No matter how bad I am, how slow I am or even if I cheat one day and rest, it will never reject me.♥ It does not judge me. I need it♥.

When I don’t run, I feel lost and confused.♥ I feel worthless.♥ I feel not good enough.♥ It makes me cry, it makes me angry, but it makes me, me!♥ Because it is who I am.♥

Things got better

🏃I was angry, so I went for a run. And things got better.

🏃I was confused, so I went for a run. And things got better.

🏃I was exhausted, so I went for a run. And things got better.

🏃I was lost, unsure, empty, afraid. Certain that whatever was left of my sanity had snapped, had come untethered and floated away to a place so high and remote that I would never see it again and that even if I did, I wouldn't recognize it. And things got better.

🏃I felt like things could not possibly get worse, so I went for a run. And things got better.

🏃Another time, I felt like things could not get much better. I went for a run. Things got much better.

🏃After enough miles, over enough runs and enough years, I realized: No matter what, no matter when, or where, or why, I can find my shoes and go for a run and things will get better.

🏃And that realization? Just knowing that? It made things better.

To my running partners

Time with a good friend can be just as beneficial as a good therapy session, especially when you cover serious kilometres during that time. So lace up those shoes and get a different kind of therapy on!

Any long-time runner can tell you that all running partners are unique. Some are perfect; everyone wants to run with them because they entertain and make the kilos fly by. Others come from the bottom of the running buddy barrel; they may have never heard the word “deodorant”, wear alarmingly short running shorts, have really bad running-hygiene habits, ask too many questions during a speed session and so on. 

Some running buddies are chatty-Cathy’s while others appear mute. Some never let you stop to use the facilities, while others always need you to stop so they can use the facilities. The list goes on and on.

I’ve had many different running buddies; some were remarkable, and I cherished every run with them. Others lasted fewer than 5km (and left me deserted on the pavement while they ran on ahead).

The first time Hani and I ran together, she wasn’t a seasoned runner. Neither of us was. We completed maybe 5km, and that was a stretch. But over the years, our kilometres increased, and we suffered through many long workouts together.

Hani didn’t say much; she just listened. She never complained of pain or pace and always kept a smile on her face. She was always ready to go for a run and never made me wait because she had just eaten or needed a snack or needed to hydrate or whatever. She never asked me to stop for water. She always forgave me when I yelled at her for dragging her feet, and she even ran through the near-death experience of the time we went running on a humid 40ºC day without water.

But all good things come to an end when Hani is injured due to over-training and is not able to run anymore.

So, since then, I’ve been doing a lot of solo running lately. I usually don’t mind. It’s quiet time. It is time to think and come up with brilliant ideas. But there was a time that it felt and looked like the middle of the night on my morning runs and I missed having a running buddy. Of course, the number one reason is safety. I just feel more confident and less jumpy when I’m running in the dark with someone else. The mind can play some really strange tricks on you! Having a running buddy to chat with makes the road less daunting.

Then I met Esna.

Esna and I have struggled up hills together; we have pushed each other through the tough parts, and we have cried together.

Esna is not only my super-fast buddy. She is a friend. A great friend. We share goals and bring different strengths to our runs.

It is so easy to get a setback in running. A cold, flu, twist an ankle, and this brutal sport make you feel like you need to start all over. It is so helpful to have a partner to support and help you build back up mentally and physically.

Runners crave the independence and freedom that running provides. We also benefit from running with a partner. Someone familiar with our strengths. There is no doubt that my running is stronger because we run together. She pushes me, and I push her. We offer words of encouragement and share experiences, and ultimately, we both grow as runners and people. We are both competitive individuals but completely supportive of each other!

At the end of the day, this individual sport continues to give back. Now, I have a new perspective. A new goal. Training for a 42.2km Marathon. This part of my running journey I am sharing with my running buddy, Esna.

THANK YOU for all of your support and friendship!

What's Healthier Than Following Fitness Gurus on Social Media? Unfollowing Them.

When I first began following social media fitness stars, I felt like I’d discovered a new world. 

I’d been trying to slim down, and although I knew the basics of working out and eating well—I’d grown up playing sports and had always maintained a relatively healthy diet—I had trouble staying motivated. But I felt genuinely inspired by the drive and success of all the lean, toned people offering workout advice and healthy recipes on every social media platform, from Pinterest and Twitter to Facebook to Instagram.

I loved the creativity of the workouts and recipes I was seeing, and I started following lots (and I mean lots) of fitness accounts. I loved seeing a photo of a woman my age wearing a pair of spandex shorts and a sports bra—sans shirt, all the better to show off her chiselled abs—paired with the caption:

"Strong is the new sexy. Get your workout in today."

I wanted to feel comfortable working out in just a bra and spandex, and I thought that if I worked out hard the way she did, I’d be able to.

These influencers exponentially expanded my workout horizons. I’d see a video of some hyper-jacked female athlete busting out ring dips in the middle of a CrossFit workout and think, "That looks fun. I can do that." Scrolling further down, I’d see a yogi effortlessly flip herself upside down into a handstand against a wall, then break out into upside-down wall push-ups. I told myself I could do that too. They made it look so easy and fun. Marathon running and powerlifting too? Sure. If they could do it, so could I.

I was sold on doing all of these workouts, although I’d never done CrossFit, disliked yoga and hadn’t actually lifted truly heavy weights. But all that didn’t matter; I had become motivated to look like these social media fitness mavens, and I would make it happen.

Until I couldn’t make it happen. I couldn’t do more than one ring dip without my arms collapsing. Handstand wall push-ups? I’d never even been able to do a somersault—I’d always had an irrational fear of breaking my neck. Marathon running? That lasted five minutes until I returned to doing my good ol’ treadmill sprints. 

Powerlifting? Yeah, no. Suddenly, much of my newfound motivation was gone. It was hard to accept myself as I was. I vowed to be like these fitness gurus one day... it was just going to take hard work and time.

I soon found myself absolutely surrounded by #fitspo. I couldn’t look at Pinterest without seeing hundreds of ripped bodies doing backbends and deadlifts, telling me not to expect a change if I didn’t make one. I couldn’t scroll through Facebook looking for the funny birthday video my friend posted without coming across a dozen workout videos and perfect bodies first.

And Instagram... dear World, my Instagram feed had become a cesspool of kale salads, bulging quad muscles, protein powders, sunset yoga poses... I felt like I was suffocating.

I fell into a back-and-forth, love-hate relationship with my social media accounts. I felt motivated and then unmotivated. I’d go for a run and think, "Man, I just ran eight kays. Well, that's not so bad." 

But as soon as I was proud of myself, I’d check my social media and see a photo of some perfect-looking woman running down a beach, followed by the caption, "Just finished my 15km morning run. What are you doing to better yourself today?" There went my motivation, zapped right down the drain.

The change came one day when I decided to skip my workout. I’d done a killer HIIT and weights workout the day before, and my body screamed at me to rest. But then, on my Instagram feed, I came across a video of a yoked fitness guru slamming weights around angrily. "Sore is just an excuse," read the caption. "How many excuses have you made today? Get off your ass and move!" Suddenly, I wasn’t motivated anymore. I was pissed.

I was tired of comparing myself to other people—people I didn’t even know, who didn’t have the same lifestyle as me, who simply weren’t me. At that moment, I decided I was done. There was a slight moment of panic—What would happen if I really needed the tips and advice?—but then I remembered all of the times I felt put down by social media fitness stars, and I went through with it: I unfollowed every single fitness guru I’d been devoting my time to.

As of January 2017, there were more than 10 million #fitspiration hashtags on Instagram. And the shorter, more often used #fitspo hashtag? More than 37 million. The social media world is inundated with fitness speak and signifiers: inspirational quotes, toned bodies, freaking acai bowls.

Frankly, I think that consuming this much "fitspo" is killing our motivation and health. 

Yes, being surrounded by inspiration might seem like a great way to help us get ourselves in gear, but it’s easy to become consumed by it. 

A recent study demonstrated that Instagram #fitspo-style images had overall negative effects on the viewer’s body image. 

Another study tested 130 undergraduate students and found that while fitspiration images did motivate the students to exercise and eat healthy, the images ultimately led to increased negative mood and body dissatisfaction. 

Social media platforms are portals for comparison. If we compare ourselves to people we don’t know, who are nothing like us, and whose primary hobby is fitness, we’re bound to feel bad about ourselves.

In the days that followed my mass unfollowing, I felt genuinely happier. Not comparing myself to others on social media brought back my motivation and self-esteem. I could feel great about reaching a new personal record during my shoulder workout, and not have to worry about feeling less awesome than some super-ripped fitness expert. I realized that following fitness accounts on social media hadn’t made me healthier… in fact, I think they made me unhealthier.

I spent way too much time criticizing my own body and not enough time being proud of myself for working toward a better, healthier me. I wasn’t considering that fitness gurus and I live totally different lifestyles and that I like mine just the way it is. I tend to eat healthy foods, but sometimes I also like to go out with my friends, knock back a few too many wines, and recover the next day with a burger and chips. Yeah, I don’t have the lifestyle that a fitness guru does... because I don’t want it. I try to find a balance between eating healthy and enjoying life.

I may not be able to do headstand push-ups, but I can track my treadmill sprint and plank-holding progress and feel good about it. CrossFit simply isn’t for me, which means I won’t have the body of a CrossFitter. But that’s OK.

If you do choose to follow social media fitness gurus, it’s important—and healthy—to take a step back and remember that your fitness journey is yours and yours alone. Your body and mind will both thank you.

I am married to a non-runner

I AM a runner! 

I LOVE to run. 

I NEED to RUN!!! 

Running is MY thing! 

MY World! 

It makes me HAPPY!

My husband, he is NOT a runner! He tried to be a runner. Then, for him, “life” got in the way of running and I, well, I kept running.

Today, I’m still running. I have found a passion inside me for running.

I live for race-cations because I get to RUN in different places! My husband does NOT understand why I’d spend so much time researching and planning a running route while on vacation! He just does not get it.

I get the runners high; my husband thinks it’s just something runners say.

I love to run local races. He doesn’t get why I pay money to run somewhere. Any other day of the week, I could run FREE.

I do my best to care for myself by eating right most of the time and putting in the long hours of training to be a better runner. He tells me all the time, it’s just one meal, or you can skip this time.

If I don’t get in my run, I’m grumpy. He’s grumpy when I tell him I must get my run in first.

Saturday morning, I’m up early so I can get in my long run. He knows how much I love to sleep, and, for the life of him, I can’t understand why I’d get up out of a perfectly comfortable bed that early to go for a run.

After a long race, I hurt all over, sometimes for days. I can’t even get up from sitting down and don’t even get me started on going downstairs. I do all this to myself, and he thinks I’m crazy when I say I’m doing it again the very next weekend!

I take up over half of our closet, and what is mine is mainly filled with running clothes, gear, shoes, and socks. I can go into every store in the entire mall and find nothing to wear, but give me one athletic store, and I could break the bank! This he does not understand.

I spend most of my extra cash on entry fees, and everything else that has to do with running, he does not know exactly how much this is and that part, I’d like to keep to myself.

But…..

HE is my biggest fan and supporter!

HE spends hours upon hours listening to me talk about running. The good, the bad and the ugly.

HE may not be at every local 5k, but for all others, HE is right there with me at the starting line, whether that is 5 AM or 8 AM and cheering me on as I come through the finish.

HE will have supper cooked when I walk in the door from an after-work run.

HE does not get running, no, not at all, but HE gets me, and he knows how much it makes me happy.

And in the end, that is all that matters.