Irony Becomes Her

On the doing of impossible things

Two months ago, I would have said with perfect confidence that I could never run a 12k course. I had unveiled admiration for my runner friends, not only because they could do it but because they seemed to enjoy doing it. Gasping for air, aching sides and legs? No "runner's high" there. No, thanks.

Also two months ago, I would have laughed in your face if you had proposed that my work schedule would involve eight-hour shifts ending at 11pm. Anybody who knows my habits knows my claim that my brain turns off at 10pm. There was quite a bit of evidence to support the claim, too, and the related standing joke involves all the first-halves of movies I've seen, before succumbing to sweet sleep, late or not-so-late at night.

We've all described things we "can’t do" at some juncture. What we really mean, whether we're aware of it or not, is usually that we don't find it worth our while to do what it takes to prepare for doing the impossible things. At any time I could have lost weight and trained to finish a 12k in 80 minutes, which I did this morning. At any time I could have called in friends to help me stay up and rescheduled my “to-do” list for morning execution, as I did when I started my new job.

Both of these things have required discipline and long-term commitment to goals. They have involved pain, fatigue, inconvenience, missing out on fun, people laughing at me – all sorts of pleasant things. But I proved myself wrong. I can do these things and do them well. Can feels a lot better than can’t, and it’s worth taking the steps to get there.

So what I meant by “impossible” was “not quick and easy.” Surprise, surprise.

posted by Lynn @ 1:50 PM