Anxiety and the Art of Self Resilience

January and February are usually tough months for me.  Lack of sunshine, work stress and self diagnosed seasonal depression all descend on me at once, in one fell swoop.  This leaves my head swimming with a wonderful cocktail of anxiety and self depreciation.  It isn't uncommon for me to retreat into myself.  Last year I had running to focus on.  Holiday Lake 50k++ on the horizon.  I had things to keep me busy and things to look forward to.  This year... I have Umstead 100 mile endurance race and (had) Holiday Lake 50K++, the return of Mao Mao.  

But this year I also have a pretty angry left leg.  My tibia is pissed.  And it has every right to be. I've overworked it even though it has been giving me the warning signs of something being wrong.  In short I haven't enjoyed a run since early December.   But this post isn't about leg pain, leg pain management or for me to complain about the pain.  I have already posted about that many times.  No, this is some bullshit post about feeling sorry for myself.  

"You need to learn to love yourself, Mao Mao." - Trevor Stewart

 I can be pretty hard on myself.  Downright destructive sometimes.  It is a mystery to me where it stems from.  My friends see it.  My family sees it.  Even my coworkers.  The quote above came during a moment in the December CRA when I was completely shattered, mentally.  And while Trevor meant it as a way of saying that I was doing ok and not to be hard myself, I also believe he meant it as a lesson.  A coaching moment.  The reason I was so flat out shattered was because I wasn't taking care of myself that day.  A theme I've repeated countless other times.

It is starting to sink in what a toll it is on everyone around you when you don't love yourself. The ones that care.  The ones you care about. They have a choice to make.  Sit idly by and watch you destroy yourself or step in and help.

It is an impossible situation for them.  Either option is heart breaking and destructive. Damaging.  Case in point:  Jordan literally pushed me up a hill that day.  Brett gave me HIS food to help put me back together.  Trevor protected me mentally from myself.  All while they, themselves were running a grueling 35 mile run with over 9,000 feet of gain.  Some after racing the weekend before. 

"Dude.  You're awesome! Apologies aren't allowed"  - Brett Sherfy 

It's a habit.  A bad one.  I apologize at least 20 times a day.  Usually for mundane, silly things. Out of self pity sometimes and out of embarrassment sometimes.  Every now and then I actually need to apologize.  Like dropping something on someone's floor or calling their favorite show the equivalent of watching someone blow their nose and then look at the tissue.  After wearing out my apologies so much they become insincere.  Empty.  I apologize for myself because I believe that I am something that should be apologized for. My feelings, my words. Me. And that is my thing to figure out, not for others to fix. 

Recently I just presented to the CEO of the corporation I work for.  During the presentation he asked me a very direct question regarding the timing of a long delayed project I have been working on.  A project very near and dear to me.  He stated that another division in the company was able to accomplish something very similar in 6 months.  His question was: "Why is it taking you 2+ years?"  This wasn't easy to hear and even harder to answer.  Because I didn't have a good answer.  I had to swallow my apology.   Their was nothing to apologize for, instead there was plenty of things to own in that question. The issues, the delays and the lack of common direction were things to own.  Not things to apologize for.  

In that setting I realized that I can own my stuff.  I can step up and take it on the chin.  So I need to step up in other areas and do that going forward.  Instead of apologizing because I feel like I am going slow or that I should have ate, I need to just do those things and own the consequences.

It is now March 1st.  I should be in the final motions of my Umstead training plan.  I sit here in my hotel room in St. Louis after a 6 mile run on a treadmill wondering if I will even be running Umstead.  I sit here, worrying.  Today I also have to present to over 300 sales associates on how my team and I are going to drive our business forward. There isn't room for both today.  Today, I have to choose between my anxiety or my life.  I have to continue on.    I have to face that there are things I can't control.  I have to control the only thing in my life under my power.  Me.   And today I choose my life.