As I took off in a slow jog this morning, I started thinking about the last time I had gone running. I remember it was glorious. I felt good. The weather was nice. My dog was even with me and she didn’t slow me down.
And then I realized it had been an entire month ago. A couple of minutes later, the burning in my lungs confirmed it.
So I walked for a bit. Then ran longer. Then walked for a bit. Then ran longer.
While I pondered where the heck January went, because it seemed like the longest month until it was over, I realized that whatever my feelings are about running are my choice.
If I was frustrated with myself, and told myself what a fatty slacker I am, it was my choice.
If I decided that wherever I am is fine and that running takes time and sometimes I’ll have to walk and it’s OK, it was my choice.
A slow realization I’ve come to in the past couple of years is that most of the time, our attitudes are choices. I can choose to be frustrated with running, or I can have patience with myself.
I can choose to be stressed and overwhelmed with teaching, or I can have patience with myself.
As a student teacher, I learned that if I don’t have patience with myself, I will burn out and possibly lose my mind. I adopted the mantra: “I can only do the best I can do right now.”
Same goes for running. Same goes with everything, really.
As long as I’m trying. As long as I know I’m doing the best that I can do at the moment, why would I choose to talk down to myself?
I hate cliches and overused quotes and proverbs, but sometimes they’re so apt.
Patience is indeed a virtue.