Ending in a Good Place

This post is about trail running. It's really about being nice to yourself, respecting your accomplishments, and taking time to appreciate progress. All the things that I didn't let myself do when I became caught in the continuous quest of success, its overseer (expectations) and its outcome (self-punishment). Its running downhill at the end.

Trail running is a kick in the ass. To complete a trail run, follow these steps: 1.) Find small mountain, peak, or big open hilly space; 2.) Put on running shoes; 3.) Run uphill until you reach the top of the peak, and then maybe around a little bit more; 4.) Run back down.

I love trail running.

I love trail running because I love putting myself in 3rd gear. I love being chased by squirrels and dodging branches and feeling my heart beat in my chest. My lungs fill with the freshest Colorado air. I like trail running with other people, hearing our feet hit the ground and seeing the little pillows of dust fly up. I love it when hikers and mountain bikers look at me like I'm insane. And I love standing at the peak, looking at the gorgeous, green Colorado landscape stretch in front of me.

And then I love the run back down. There's nothing more exhilarating than watching your legs move quickly and freely up the very same mountain that forced you to exhale heavily on every step, the muscles in your legs stiffening with every lift. When you run up a mountain you know that it is very difficult; there's not doubt that you're getting a workout. But when you run back down you realize just how far you went. You see rocks and marvel, "I just jumped over that?!" I don't think that I would have the same sense of accomplishment after my trail runs if I didn't go back down. Surveying one's work after the fact creates a sense of pride and gratification. It's a celebration of one's accomplishments.

In my disease and the years leading up to it I lost the ability to celebrate my accomplishments. I was constantly working to achieve but when I finally reached the end it was never quite good enough or there was something more to do next. I could never just loosen my knees and run downhill, all hell flying lose behind me, laughing at myself.

Today I undertook EMDR therapy for the first time. Its a way of reframing the habitual negative thoughts in one's brain, like placing the old memories in more thoughtful, productive places, or accepting them and moving on completely. Today we found my "safe place," a nice memory that I feel calm within and can recall in times of need. My safe place is the sun-room at my Auntie Val's house, complete with Auntie Val giggling in the corner (she's wearing blue). To complete the EMDR session we opened by imagining my safe place, putting myself there with all my senses aware. Then we recalled a memory of one of the first times my disordered thoughts got a hold of me. Over and over we recalled this memory, recognizing the emotions that came up each time. The session ended where it started: with my Auntie Val in my safe place. "I'm not going to let you leave feeling sad and vulnerable," my therapist said. "Sit here in your safe place and feel proud with the hard work you've done."

It felt like running downhill. All of the sweat and stiffness was whisked away by Auntie Val's bubbling, falling giggle. I saw that I had just put in an incredible amount of effort and I now deserved to feel safe, happy and proud. I took a moment to respect my effort. I left a little lighter than I arrived.

After I'm done with this post I'm going to find a picture for it. Then I'm going to re-read and edit it. Once I'm satisfied with it's content I'm going to re-read it once more. For that final read I'm just going to like it. I'm going to enjoy it and be proud of it. I hope that when you all see it you will enjoy it, too.