Training My Patience

OMG!  Why do I always pick the longest line at Target???…Don’t these people know I have to get to the coast this afternoon!  And it’s lunchtime, and I’ve only had cereal, a banana, an apple, a glass of chocolate milk, tea, and coffee today.  I’m about to start ripping in to that whole display of candy bars beside me.

“Next customer!  Next customer!” I keep hearing from the express line one aisle over.  Why didn’t I get in that line?  I’m such an idiot!  Ok – let’s see if we can move this process along…I’ll go ahead and line up all my items on the conveyer belt and get out my ID and Target card.  Ok – I’m ready.  Seriously – what are they chatting about?  How much can the cashier say about ten boxes of colored pencils?  And why does that lady need ten boxes of colored pencils?!  Oh, She’s probably donating them.  Ok – I’m being mean.  Patience, Paula.  Patience.

Nope – “Patient” is definitely not an adjective I use when I am told to “list three words that describe yourself.”  And my lack of this virtue is certainly not a result of my mother not trying to instill it in me.  As a little girl, I remember being told constantly to “Be Flexible” and “Be Patient.”  I also remember being told to “Soften my edges” and “Be more pleasant” as my parents and teachers tried to curb my spunk and turn me in to a sweet, soft-spoken girl while the boys my age were coached to be tougher, stronger, and more confident.  Then again, my lessons may have had something to do with kicking that boy in the balls at horse camp.  However, almost 20 years later, I am still not seeing the problem there…he was picking on me!  He deserved to be brought down to his knees.

Maybe because I didn’t sufficiently learn patience as a child, I am getting my fair share of lessons at 27, however, in a certainly different form.  While I can attempt to speed through Target, throwing things in my cart left and right, it is a little more difficult to speed through a 22 mile long run.  Halfway through this week’s Sunday long run in the heat and humidity of Emerald Isle, NC, my eyes are stinging from my salty sweat, my feet are throbbing from what turned out to be 71 miles of beating this week, and my shorts are so drenched that I feel like I am wearing a diaper.  And then – you are reminded that you have eleven more miles to go – about another hour and a half of running.

While I was soooo ready for a cold shower, chocolate milk, eggs, toast, fruit and anything else edible that could come near my hands, I had to remain settled in my pace with a calm mind.  I had to tolerate pain without becoming anxious.  In other words, I had to be patient.  My mantra:  “Keep your feet moving and the miles will take care of themselves.”

In an age of instant-gratification, the miles, workouts, and years that are required to attain peak running performance are probably too much for even the average athlete.  In fact, you can get your undergraduate degree AND your law degree in the time that it takes to train yourself to your life’s PRs (Personal Records).  And the Seven-Year peak performance rule could be even longer if your mileage is low or if you have setbacks from injuries.

While I think I will always be opinionated, independent, and down-right stubborn at times, I am trying to become more patient as I age – whether I am standing in line at Target, going through my home’s to-do list, complaining that I haven’t found the “perfect guy” (or even a decent one), or I’m daydreaming about my best-marathon ever!  Seven years of training is a lofty goal, and I am not sure if I have the dedication or the patience to get there…But for the time being, I’m just going to focus on keep moving my feet.

MCM Training Week Twelve: 71 Miles

This Week's Beer Choice:  Foothills Brewing Hoppyum IPA (Winston-Salem, NC)

A bottle of Hoppyum with my beach-drinking glass - Reward for my 22 miler.