Running Against the Wind

Ever since I could remember I've disliked the wind blowing on me, and that dislike climbs to near rage when I'm running. In fact the wind is basically the only excuse I use to head inside, opting to use a treadmill; but even then the strong fans in the gym can irk me. The constant sensation of fighting to move forward, being held back and pushed around, while my hair flies about my face and into my mouth does my head in. It seems ridiculous, but on certain days when it feels like it slows my already tortoise pace to a mere crawl, it's enough to inspire a full-on pity party and the only things that power me through are blind rage and stubbornness. It's even bad enough that I actually fear high winds on Saturday's when I do my long training runs. I do it anyway of course, but I typically need to mentally prepare myself for 'the blow.' (Pun!)

Despite hating the wind I've lived in the notoriously windy state of Kansas, Palmerston North which is likewise known for its wind and even has windmill farms to capture its energy, and now I live in Taranaki where the term 'breezy' basically means 'will turn an umbrella inside out, but won't strip someone of their clothing.' Makes me wonder if I haven't subconsciously chosen windy environments to challenge myself.....

This morning was an easy 8k recovery after yesterday's 29k long distance run, and when I left home the wind was eerily calm. Knowing that Hawera can get windy astonishingly fast, and with my route in mind, I wanted to ensure that the two longer legs would be with and not against the wind should it kick up. I did the intelligent thing and looked up the direction of the wind on my phone, 6 kmph NNE, barely a whisper. After a quick assessment in my head I decided which way to start my loop and set out. 

Guess what? My intelligent assessment turned out to be completely backwards; NNE doesn't mean it's blowing TO the north, it means it's blowing FROM the north. I would've realised this if I had bothered to step outside and actually felt which way the wind was heading instead of making my super smart decision whilst sitting in my car. When I turned to head north along my longest stretch, there it was feeling more like a roar than a whisper; the usual aggravation gaining momentum. This time I paused my reaction however and thought, 'well, I'm not going to stop so I might as well have a think about the bright side of the situation.' 

Here's what I came up with:

• My 'duh!' moment made me laugh; I frequently over-analyse situations only to find I've landed on the wrong conclusion. For a smart person, I often do phenomenally stupid shit.
• The direction I took may have put me face-first into the wind, but it also kept the sun out of my eyes so I could see the path in front of me without burning my retinas.
• It helped keep me cool on a very warm day.
• I envisioned the wind and I clashing together and combining to form a tornado as we moved in opposite directions. Creating something powerful with the energy I put into moving forward raised my spirits.
• Though it felt strong, the wind was hardly blowing at all. This lead to an overarching acknowledgement that I tend to 'blow' things out of proportion (Boom! I'm on a roll!). I hate being hindered in my efforts in general, though slowing down typically prevents me from making a fool of myself in the long run. I could go even further down that rabbit hole, but that would end up being it's own article!
• Despite the weather conditions, length of the run or how skeptical I feel about my body's ability to finish, I remember that so long as I take one step at a time I'll reach my goal. I'm grateful that I have the inner determination and drive to keep going. Sometimes it comes from self-empowerment and other times rage directed at an invisible nemesis I can't control. Either way, I keep moving forward and that inspires pride.
• I spent so much time in my head creating this inane essay that before I knew it I had run the length of the road, turning in an different direction and out of the wind. I even missed it a bit.

Oh, I do love puns!

As I faced a fairly gnarly headwind during most of my 32km run this morning, a couple of more points came to me:

• I heard the wind as soon as I awoke and the idea of attempting my longest training run ever in it did not excite me to say the least. I began to worry about my ability to complete the run, but I was determined to set a new personal record and knew I had to give it a go anyway wind or no wind. This showed me how resilient I am and helped me to realise that fear necessitates bravery, and in a similar way mistakes necessitate adventure. What would be the fun in an easy life without challenges?
• The wind reminds me to slow down and keep a sustainable pace. Instead of seeing it as impeding me, I see that it's only serving to help me in it's own annoying way.
• Take each gust as it comes; staying pissed at a gust that held me back or worrying about future gusts that will challenge me is pointless, I can't control it so I shouldn't fight it (though this is easier said than done!).
• Despite the wind, I smashed it and hit my personal best for distance ever! 

All that just to come to this point; the wind is the physical manifestation of my own emotional issues. My reaction to the wind largely depends on my inner emotional state; some days I resign myself to it, other days I fight it, or run with it in beautiful harmony, and sometimes it breaks me and I end up in tears. Though this is a true account of what happened, I see how the wind also functions as a significant metaphor in my life. As humans we often feel like we're pushing shit uphill, running against the wind; the struggle is real. We all have triggers that push our buttons, and we may or may not understand why. A simple situation, a wisp of wind, can cause a torrent of emotions to erupt. 

It seems so silly that I would be so easily enraged by an act of nature that I can't control, but that's precisely why it bugs the hell out of me. The wind pushes me around and slows me down, it controls me. Historically I've fought against being controlled with every fibre of my being, opting to vehemently fight for control. It took me years of self-development work to discover that my obsession with control was a coping mechanism for feeling insecure, as well as a lack of trust in life in general. Deep shit, wounds from my past that never fully healed. So some days my emotions are stable, the woulds have scabbed over and are partially concealed so I can cope. Other days those scabs have been ripped off for any number of reasons and I cannot; turning the wisp into a gale that knocks me for a six.

Today I proved to myself that I can change my old habit of resisting control and fighting the wind. However foreign it may feel, I can consciously choose to challenge myself, to find gratitude in a situation where I would typically feel angry or victimised by a lack of control. Life is full of such opportunities. It takes courage, but we can all run into the wind.

Sometimes People are Assholes, Even Buddhists

While stretching this morning I got into a bit of an esoteric conversation, as I do, with one of my fellow gym rats. I'm not sure how it even came up, but he brought up revolving mental thoughts, shit going round and round in a continuous loop which afflicts a portion of the human population, driving us mad. Certainly a topic I understand well and have written about before, though that was 6 years ago and I've only just started understanding how to actually let the buggers go! Jesus, that affirms what I've suspected is the hardest part about dealing with life issues and making positive changes, mainly that knowing 'what' I need to do to be happier and more serene is easy. The crux is figuring out the 'how' and actually implementing those changes in a meaningful way so that they are sustainable; 6 bloody years?! Inside I'm laughing though, it's actually funny how frustrated I feel and by the end of this article I hope it's obvious why I find that comical.

Something to ponder ...... read on.

I'll admit I'm deep down the emotional healing rabbit-hole at present, and I intend to stay there because the fundamental changes that have transpired as a result are well worth the effort. By effort I mean terrifying confrontations about myself, my past and who I authentically am, meditation, trusting my intuition, daily journaling, walking around Mount Taranaki and tears; lots and lots of tears. Oh, and the odd bought of swearing so profusely that anyone overhearing me might assume I have turrets syndrome. Eager to show off my new and improved way of life I told my gym buddy that those thoughts would cycle until he let them out, talked about them. He said he was and I pointed out that all he was talking about was their presence, not what they actually were, to which he responded that he couldn't; it wasn't an acceptable subject to discuss. Uh huh, exactly! In his head those thoughts will remain until he's willing to let them go. When I suggested he explore that notion and talk to a trusted friend, he mentioned that's what dogs were for, and sure, whoever or whatever, just talk it out!

From there I mentioned that I talk to my car a lot, telling him about the epic time I released a hell of a lot of anger about my ex-partner and his family. With tears and an extremely liberal use of the term 'a pack of C*#$s', I finally got to vent the injustice I felt during that relationship and expressed my emotions in a safe environment. Afterward I even thanked Raven for her help in soaking up the shit-storm of emotions. My friend gave me a look I'm all too familiar with: 'What is this crazy bitch on about?' He went on to explain that when we think of others as assholes, we need to realise that we're actually the jerks; that it is our response to these people and experiences that is the issue, not the people themselves.

Raven is always happy to let me beat of her steering wheel. That's love.

Hmmmm, I'm familiar with this line of thinking; it's Buddhist. During said ex-relationship I sought a way to calm the fighting in my head so that I'd stop fighting my partner by visiting a Buddhist centre every week to gain some clarity and serenity. This ideal, that it is our response to issues that are the actual issue, made sense to me and I strove to embed it into my life. It even felt empowering because I had the control, I had the ability to control my emotions! Or not. I'd fail time and again, things my partner said and did continued to send me through the roof. Afterwards I'd beat myself up for getting upset. Seriously, I left black and blue marks on my self esteem I felt so much shame. Why couldn't I just keep it in and be calm?! I thought there was something wrong with me. Given my turbulent childhood and accumulation of mental health labels, it was certainly easy to believe. Who in their right mind would want to be with me? I was horribly flawed and broken.

Now, having done the work I've done in the emotional space, I proudly declare this sentiment is pure and utter bullshit. It never sat well with me then and now I understand why; it encourages us to suppress our emotions at best, and blame ourselves for feeling anything but calm and serene at worst. Both of which result in decreased self worth and a lack of trust in our emotions and intuition. Every emotion has a function, and when our emotions say 'they're being a dick!' it's to help us slow down and question the situation; to ask 'am I staying true to who I am and what I want?' In the case of relationships the fear of being alone usually keeps us where we, inspiring feelings of entrapment and disempowerment which results in a decreased sense of worth; perpetuating the vicious cycle.

Let me be quite clear, I'm not saying that we shouldn't take responsibility for our emotions. Feeling emotions does not mean we necessarily express our emotions. This is a central concept of Emotional Intelligence, and probably what the Buddhists were actually trying to convey. Our response to triggers and stimuli do, indeed, need to be carefully assessed, questioned, held up to the light for examination and re-assembled to take out any unnecessary baggage from our pasts. Otherwise we'll end up shooting a McDonald's employee for giving us Coke instead of Diet Coke because that is what suppressed anger looks like after 40 years. Not pretty. I'll own that I chose to be with that particular person. I chose to stay in that particular situation because I was in love. Besides, who else was going to love me? So yes, my responses were the issue because I chose to ignore the emotions that were actually warning signs that I shouldn't continue the path I was on, that I was unhappy and devaluing myself by assuming that I was the broken one. Yet I lacked the courage and security in myself to leave.

Honestly, I thought I could fix myself and keep it all bottled up in my head the way my friend does until I read a book that convinced me otherwise (listed below). The book insisted that we had to share our 'shame stories' to work our shit out. When I first read that theory something inside me recoiled. Stuff that! I could handle my own issues in-house without infecting others with my bullshit! Well guess what, if I could it bloody well wouldn't have taken me more 6 years to make this much progress in my meandering personal development journey. Especially considering I thought I had it 'all figured out.' The only thing I'm certain of now is that the more I know, the less intelligent I feel. Why? It's a bit like reaching the top of one summit only to discover all the other summits I must cross that I didn't even know existed! The difference is my mindset. Before I would've cried in despair, now I laugh and feel grateful for more adventure.

Kevin Biggar's Definition of Adventure. I love it!

My lifestyle and general demeanour almost certainly appear crazy. In fact, I distinctly remember rattling off the various mental illness diagnoses I've received throughout my life with a friend, followed by my assertion that I've never felt more sane despite these stigmas. I then followed it up with a hearty helping of maniacal laughter. Oh yes, to others I must seem quite twisted! Whole, authentic and worthy, not to mention infinitely less anxious, is how I actually feel. My whacky way of life basically involves allowing myself to feel whatever and however I feel without trying to justify it or beating myself with a naughty stick because others may not like it; I choose to defy social standards and conditions so I can stay true to myself. It's not easy, it takes conscious effort each and every day. But if appearing nutty is the price I have to pay, done deal! Hell, I'll pay double! The relief from a lifetime of bottled up stress and suppressed emotions is priceless, not to mention the profound elevation of my self esteem. I now invite all of my emotions, the good, the bad and the ugly. They are all signals that I need attention, just as physical pain cues me to the fact that I'm hurt and need healing. All or our emotions and feelings deserve consideration, compassion and celebration; they teach us what we like and what we don't like, how secure we feel in ourselves or how afraid, they outline our boundaries.

We were born to feel, to be human, so live!

Emotional Healing Resources:
The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown
- This book has actually inspired a series of articles I'm working on at present about self-worth; consider this article the preface and stay tuned.

The Dark Side of the Light Chasers by Debbie Ford
- I've only just started reading this book, but it's already shifting a lot of rock!

Side Note on Humility: There used to be a point in time when I'd rather slash my wrists with a dull and rusty butter knife than read 'self-help' books. I had my issues, but I was strong dammit! A fighter! Oh, I was a fighter all right, but the only person I was fighting was myself and that's a lose-lose situation. Every living breathing human has issues with their emotions, it's a consequence of the human condition. Suck it up, read this stuff. What's the worst that could happen?