The story of my life this week.
Running :: I am not an “advanced” marathoner. (At least not yet.)
How does an “easy 7-mile run” translate into an 8:00 pace uphill? I have no idea what possessed me to try to keep up with the group for the first two miles today. I know how important it is to warm-up and to train at an easy pace. I’ve coached (okay, sometimes preached to) people about doing this right for over a year now.
Even when I wised up at mile 2 and decided to back off, I still ended up with an average pace of 8:45 and an average HR that I can’t even type because it’s too embarrassing. I never saw another soul except for my buddy Ms. D who hung back with me! (And, one of the coaches who dropped back towards the end to make sure we knew the route. We did, but it was still greatly appreciated.)
The advanced class may be new, but most of the faces are not. Many of them have absolutely no business running this fast in training, especially during the first week. News flash :: If your marathon PR is a 3:40-3:45, that means you just did a 7-mile run at — if not faster than — your race pace, which is not an easy run. Fortunately, telling them is not my job this time.
As the coaches reminded me this morning, it will only be a matter of time until Ms. D and I are not alone or people drop out due to injury. Until then, I need to swallow my pride, use my head, and run for me.
Work :: I am only one “reduced work hour” person.
I knew when I accepted my new job last year that the hardest part would be overcoming my people-pleasing ways. I cannot say “Yes” to every project that comes in the door. If I anticipate conflicting deadlines, I need to speak up immediately and stalk people until they do something about it — not work double-time, but half-quality, to squeeze it all in. If I’m asked to do something on a case that isn’t mine, the appropriate response is, “I’m not in charge of this case” with a copy to the person who is — not “This isn’t my case, but I’ll be happy to take a look at it when I get in.”
The day that all these things are as easily done as they are said, will be a fabulous one indeed.
Life :: Some things are best left alone.
Have you ever gotten a letter from someone that you knew you shouldn’t read? You had a big falling-out; you knew that your relationship was beyond repair; but, he or she felt the need to reach out and say something?
It’s an admirable thing, really. Something that I normally would advocate. Everyone should have an opportunity to say what’s on their mind. Anyone who has been hurt deserves an apology, and is fortunate if they know someone who cares enough to give it. I feel so strongly about this that when I was Editor-in-Chief of my Law Review, I designed an entire publication around the value of the apology. So, what I’m about to say is going to sound totally inconsistent with everything I believe in, but . . . sometimes you should just leave things alone.
This has happened to me twice now, each in a completely different context. Both times I was happy to receive a letter from the person, thinking it would be a relief, would give me closure, or might even be a bridge to a fresh start. Both times I was desperately disappointed. It’s not that they were mean, or said the ‘wrong’ thing, or said things they shouldn’t have said, or didn’t say things that should have been said. I’m sure that they were hard letters to write, and, on some level, I am grateful and impressed. It’s just that certain pains cannot be undone through words.
I truly believe that time can and does heal all wounds. But healing can’t happen if you pick at the scab. I know this. So, maybe, if there is a next time, I will stop at the delight of receiving the letter and not read it. If nothing else, it would make for a better ending.
On that note, I’ve had just about enough of this week.
Tomorrow is Pancake Friday in our house. And, I received an email today informing me that it is the last weekend of Cafe Brazil’s holiday menu, which means I will be stuffing myself with pumpkin pancakes — probably more than once!
Yes, I should know better, but I’m gonna do it anyway. 🙂
With love, Beth