Running has been an unexpected source of personal development in my life. I've been running for almost eleven years and have finished well over thirty races, three of which were full marathons.

In 2008 I completed my first race. It was the Kiawah Island Half Marathon, near Charleston, SC. Despite overwhelming nerves and a sharp wheezing in my chest, there was something new in realizing that my body could do this really hard thing. This was the beginning of very quiet and slow shift.

From that point on, running became an on again, off again thing for me. I registered for a race every few months or so, each time learning something new and chipping away at something old. Running is now a part of my rhythm and is one of the few things that can get me out of my head and create space for new things. Free things, strong things, be kind to yourself things, you aren’t a number things.

Despite all the miles logged, it has taken me a long time to actually call myself a runner. Athleticism was something that felt elusive to me growing up. While I wasn't exactly incompetent and even spent some time on the swim team, I simply wasn’t all that into it. I had a penchant for all things drama and theater related and my favorite after school activity was listening to Alanis Morrissette’s Jagged Little Pill album in my room. As is true with so many things, I wish I knew then what I know now.

I wish I knew that you can try something new and change your mind and change your life and the way you see yourself. Once I began to see and get to know this new part of me, calling myself a runner no longer felt weird. There wasn’t a need to explain that I run an eleven-minute mile on a good day and that “I don’t have a runner’s body”. (What does that even mean?) I get that this might sound a bit over the top and like I am making a big deal out of nothing. Running is after all pretty basic. It’s literally just one foot in front of the other. In it's totality, it has been and continues to be so much more than that to me.

As I looked to the future and the dreams I have for future accomplishments, experiences, relationships, and such, it makes me curious. What are the other things that I'm not taking ownership of? Where are the places my timidity or lack of experience make me feel unworthy? Does not being great at something make it less worthwhile?

Writing is a dream that I have had for a very long time. In fact, I started this blog in 2012, and have only published a few entries a year since that time. I am a little embarrassed to tell people about it and the only way I’ve managed to produce content for the blog in recent months is because I made it private and therefore knew that no one else would be reading it. I have some invisible shame shield around my writing that makes no sense whatsoever.

Much like my experience with running, writing requires the same consistency and courage. I don’t feel equipped or well -trained or fast. This is simply a lovely and fun, creative outlet. It doesn’t have to be more than that. That’s the lesson in the effort of this practice. One foot in front of the other, one word after the next. Trusting that I’ll know when I’m done by the way I feel and satisfaction comes from inward progress, rather than outward achievement.