An impossible goal

About six months ago, I signed up for a thing I never thought I’d be able to do. I’m not sure if I questioned the mental or the physical part more. 12 days ago, I was scheduled to run my first marathon. 10 or 20 years ago, I would have said it was impossible and quickly retorted, “I have a lame knee and I actually hate to run.” That would have been the end of the conversation. But about 18 months ago, a friend asked about running a half marathon. I’d been running more since the pandemic started and enjoyed the time outside and the time alone. It was me time… once the kids got too big to push around in a double jogger and I was no longer a stewardess/ jogger— it actually became fun! I could listen to a podcast or book on tape. Hell, I hardly recognized myself. I hadn’t done any of those activities three years prior. Who was I anymore? Except, I kinda liked it. 

It was good for my mind, my body, my learning, and my growth. 

So last year when my friend asked, I said sure to the half marathon and convinced one of my besties to join! We trained and enjoyed long runs together… suddenly, the marathon still seemed far-fetched, but maybe not completely impossible. 

This year, I just signed up… I printed out a training schedule, which I only adhered to approximately 1/7^th of the time. Quite specific huh? Well, I just did the long runs once a week… and I missed one when I had a sinus infection. So maybe slightly less than 1/7^th…

The rest was just me time. 

Fast forward to two weeks ago— the week suddenly became filled with doubt. Our daughter started spiking fevers about a week before the race. Covid was negative: whew… but as the week went on, the familiar creep of influenza that has been swarming throughout the ERs was fairly obvious. She was pitiful. She napped more that week than in the past 3 years combined. She rebounded after a few days and we thought we were in the clear (even sent her back to school after 40 hours of no fever) only to have her spike a temp again the next day. So, the day before the race: I had a decision to make: stay or go.

I had trained for what I thought was an impossible goal. It seemed possible physically, but now it was just a mental game– one loaded with an extra scoop of mom-guilt (and perhaps a tiny bit of dread). 

Regrets: inactions are said to be far more regrettable than actions.

So I went. And Grandma rose to the occasion once again! 

I ran, and ran… and ran. 

There was some pain but once I started running, I never doubted that I could do it. But I knew, If I needed to stop, I’d still be proud of myself for the hard work and effort that I put in. 

And that race was fun. Now the night after: not so fun. My knees hurt like hell. 

I am so grateful for the opportunity: for a physically able body… and for the love and support, especially from my husband, who made it possible that weekend and all the prior weeks for long runs… and for taking some really sweaty post-race photobooth pics. I’m grateful for his mom who watched our febrile/snotty little ones. 

In coaching, this framework has helped me so much with impossible goals:

Pick a Big IMPOSSIBLE Goal–> Develop a skill set and add problem solving. This I can do. Little by little, I added some skill sets that let me achieve something I never thought was possible.

3 questions to innovate/ create your roadmap over time:

1. What worked?
2. What didn’t work?
3. What are we going to do differently?  And know that when you fail: you develop your failure resiliency. (Which is cool when you don’t let it impact your self-worth. It starts to become Play and you learn to innovate.)

After years of being failure averse: I’m working on a new approach: What if you take failure from a new lens? “You are either winning or learning.”

That marathon day: I learned, and I won.

Cheers to doing the impossible; remember to take time to celebrate your successes!

Can’t wait for 2023!