Here's a secret about introverts: we have a lot of conversations in our head before (or sometimes instead of) having them with the people they involve.
Well, first I guess I should back up and tell you another secret. I'm not really an introvert. For a long time I thought I was, but the truth was that I was shy and less confident. If you believe the Myers Briggs Type Indicator, I've meandered over the years just across the E/I boundary and now sit just inside the extroversion space. What does that mean? Well, I'm a little bit of both. I do get energy from being around groups of people, but I also cherish my alone time to process and recharge. The label for me is "ambivert" but because I'm also a P on the MBTI, I bristle at labels sometimes.
Not exactly the juicy secret you were expecting, I know. What I'm trying to say is, despite all my newfangled extroversion, there are still plenty of times that I'm in my own head. This is never more true than when I'm running. That's the reason I started running years ago--I needed a quiet place outside the house and away from everyone to begin the process of figuring out some pretty big things.
When the weather cooperates, I run at a track near my house. It's a lovely, utterly quiet spot set at the bottom of a steep hill overlooked by this tree and solitary bench. If there's something on my mind (and let's face it, there usually is), I usually imagine someone connected to that issue sitting on that bench and the thoughts in my head are about them. Sometimes the invisible bench inhabitant is my mom, and my runs are narrated with all I wish I could tell her, what I imagine she'd say.
More often than not though, the person I'm talking to is me. The inner me, the voice that challenges me, calls me out, and keeps me honest with myself. Keep going. What do you want? What does this mean to you? You can do this. The hard, physical action of controlling my breath, my pace, of pushing ahead literally...somehow that is the perfect counterweight to the mental effort required to be a truly functional, emotionally fluent human being. It takes work, you know? Self exploration isn't for the faint of heart and being your best self doesn't happen by accident. It takes steady intention. It's an exercise in honesty and openness that is much more strenuous that any physical activity.
Tuesday morning was no different. I'd been wrestling with something, unclear, stuck, mostly because I didn't feel brave enough to ask the questions and make the statements necessary to get unstuck. It was hard enough to get myself out for a run that morning, and the last thing I wanted to do was add the work of mentally rehashing this issue on top of the effort of actual exercise. But like the muscle memory of settling into a comfortable stride, my mind has a way of going to that one spot that needs attention. The bench rarely stays empty. You can't stay in this place much longer. Uncomfortable, but undeniably true. So, I gave myself a deadline of 48 hours. No plan, definitely no idea of what would happen, but I knew at the end of those two days, I needed to be in a different place. That makes it sound so simple, doesn't it? Gulp...
Even though I had no idea how it would go, it definitely didn't go the way I thought it would. And that's fine. Really. The action had so little to do with the outcome and everything to do with moving forward. Because that's all I can control, right? Stay in my lane. The road ahead will meet me every single step of the way, but I have to do the hard work of putting one foot in front of the other, figuratively and literally. I can't say this last lap was my favorite, but I can say it's behind me and I'm ready for what's ahead. Keep going. You can do this.