This morning, I checked an item off my list of "can'ts": I ran a 5k. 

I'm well aware that for many of you, 3.1069 miles seems an easy distance. But for myself, and for everyone else who has ever felt overwhelmed and defeated by any distance of running, I must make this clear: difficulty is relative, but victory is universal. Today I accomplished something I had previously considered to be impossible for me. It was a euphoric victory, and I travelled a great distance to get there.

IN THE BEGINNING: "JUST NOT A RUNNER"

I am blessed. I was born into a family that understood and supported my creative nature before I even left the womb. My mother played Joni Mitchell's Blue on repeat for me while I was still in her belly. Before I could speak in sentences, my Grandmother would bribe me with pieces of cheese to hum melodies for her. My ballet recitals were like family reunions: the entire Alcorn clan showed up to watch. I was only given books for Christmas--and I liked it.

My family recognized and encouraged my youthful strengths and passions. No one seemed to think running might be one of them. I remember coming home from school, after the first time I was picked last when choosing teams. I was devastated, and my mom said, "Oh honey, the same thing used to happen to me--don't feel bad about it. We're just not runners." 

She was only trying to soothe me, and it did work--I felt like less of a loser knowing my mom had survived the trauma of being picked last--but that whole "we're just not runners" phrase stuck. I held onto it. I labeled myself with it: I'm just not a runner.

STICK WITH WHAT YOU KNOW

As a sensitive kid, more than anything, I craved connection. Which was why being picked last for teams was particularly devastating: it felt like rejection. In my little-kid-heart, I equated connection and community with being popular, and being good at things. Already prone toward perfectionism, I developed an unrealistic need to be the best, to be "perfect." I was afraid that if I failed at something, or wasn't good enough, I'd disappoint people, and then they wouldn't like me. So I threw myself deeply into endeavors that felt comfortable to me, and purposefully avoided trying things I thought I wouldn't excel at. One of these, obviously, was running.

"WHEN I LET GO OF WHAT I AM, I BECOME WHAT I MIGHT BE." {LAO TSU}

Fast forward a couple of decades, and I'm running my first 5k.  I can sum up how I got from not being a runner to being a runner succinctly: I dropped the label. I just decided one day that it was bullshit: I could run if I wanted to. And I wanted to. So I went to the Nike store, bought a pair of sneakers in the cutest color, put on my headphones, and started running.

It was fucking hard. I didn't feel graceful or light. I felt out-of-breath and embarrassed and heavy and really not good at it. But I'd learned something important since the days when I was devastated over being picked last for teams, and what I learned was a lesson that kept me running, even when I felt embarrassingly bad at it.

What I've learned is that it's ok to be a beginner. It's ok not to be the best. I will still be good enough. I will still be lovable. Anyway, a true sense of connection and community doesn't come from being perfect, or the best. In fact, it's the opposite: what people connect to more than anything, are your soft spots, your vulnerabilities, your messy and beautiful, good-with-the-bad moments. Knowing that there is someone else out there who has felt the same way makes you feel less alone, and more connected. 

I'm not the best runner, but I keep a good pace, I'm focused and hard-working. And I enjoy it. I especially enjoyed flying past the finish line, this morning. I felt a little heart-burst. Turns out I am a runner. I was just waiting on my own permission to get into the groove and grow some wings.

HOW ABOUT YOU?

Is there anything you've convinced yourself you just can't do? Is there a label you've wrapped yourself in and are ready to peal away? Or perhaps you've already found your groove and grown unexpected wings! I'd love to hear your story. Feel free to comment below, or email me directly.

Until then, how about some Beyoncé? Here's a link to my running playlist:

My RUN Playlist

Love.

Jamie