For three months straight this summer, every time I laced up my shoes and hit the trail, I felt like I was running through wet cement. When I finally managed to drag myself heaving and sweaty into my house four miles later, my husband always asked how my run went, and my answer was always the same: “Horrible. Again.”
I bought new running shoes. I tried drinking more water. I tried drinking less water. I tried stretching more. I tried stretching less. No matter what I did, the result was always the same: a demoralizing, abysmal run.
I wondered if perhaps my running days were over. Maybe I was simply getting too old. Maybe my body was wearing out. Maybe it was time for a gentler form of exercise.
Despite my frustration, I kept at it, mostly because I am both stubborn and lazy. I didn’t want to take up swimming or spinning or Zumba. I’ve been running since I was 16 years old. I like the rituals around running – the stretching, the cool-down, lying on my sunroom floor as the cool breeze from the ceiling fan wafts over me – as well as the structure and rhythm of beginning my day on the trail. I also like the endorphins, which I don’t get when I walk or bike.
: :
I’m heading down the home stretch of book-writing, one eye on my January deadline, the other on my word count. But I admit, I’ve been discouraged lately. While the early chapters seemed to unfurl straight from my fingertips, these later chapters have been a grind. I spend a lot of time staring out the sunroom window behind my desk, my hands in my lap (or my fingernails between my teeth), rather than on the keyboard. I delete more than I type.
There’s something wrong, I think to myself. It shouldn’t be this hard.
I find myself wondering if my writing days are coming to an end. Maybe I’m burned out, I think. Maybe it’s time for a different kind of creativity. Or maybe, a small voice deep inside wonders, maybe God doesn’t want me to write books anymore.
One day a few weeks ago, when Brad asked me how my morning run had gone, I realized it had been a tiny bit better. I might not have noticed if he hadn’t asked, but when I thought back to my four miles, I realized they hadn’t been quite as horrendous. For the first time in months, I hadn’t felt like I was about to keel over and die on the trail.
Since then, my morning jogs have continued to improve bit by bit. I got my wind back. My feet stopped hurting. My legs feel steadier. I am energized when I finish, rather than spent. I haven’t done anything differently. Over time I just simply began to feel better.
This morning as I ran through the November mist, I felt strong, carefree, and light on my feet. Everything felt right in the world during those four miles on the trail. Later, after I’d showered and was seated at my desk, steeling myself for another grueling day of writing/not writing, I remembered my summer of bad running – the days and weeks when what had once come easily felt like a burden and a punishment.
I also remembered that my season of hard running, frustrating and demoralizing as it was, eventually came to an end. The difficult season passed unexpectedly, slipping out the back door as quietly and mysteriously as it had arrived.
There is a lesson here about seasons, particularly those that arrive unexpectedly and are not altogether welcome. Sometimes we find ourselves in an uncomfortable, discouraging, frustrating season – a season in which the next right step is, literally or figuratively, to simply take another step, and then another and another.
I still don’t know why I struggled so much in my running this past summer. Likewise, I don’t know why writing is so hard right now. But if my season of hard running taught me anything, it’s that this too shall eventually pass.
In the meantime, I’ll keep putting down one word after another, my eyes fixed on the finish line, until this hard season slips quietly away like a November mist, until I begin to write like I run, strong and carefree again.
I needed this encouragement today! Thank you!
I can relate about writing, but not about running, because I’ve never done it (and wouldn’t be caught dead doing it… or maybe I would….die running!) 🙂 I love brisk walking and now a little hiking (though my daughter and husband say I can’t really can’t claim the handle “hiker”!) But how I admire people like you, Michelle, who do run and have the figure and endurance and tenacity show it. And you are a marvelous author . . . good grief, working on your 4th book (correct me if I’m wrong), regular blogger, newspaper columnist, and newsletter writer. How I admire your tenacity and prolificness. And frankly (and don’t kill me), but it’s a bit comforting to know it doesn’t always come so effortlessly for you as it appears it would be from the outside. I have always lamented that I am a slow, methodical writer (when I write creatively). Sure I can slap-dash emails, blog comments, and FB posts; but the kind of thoughtful, polished, soul-searching writing that a blog or my books required–*that* kind of writing most often comes agonizingly slowly . . . word by word by painful word. I could tell you horror, like-pulling-teeth stories of slow writing. But honestly, when I cry out to God for His Words nearly one word at a time, sometimes and quite often, those are the pieces that end up being the best–the kind where I have had to beg Him for the words and inspiration. So maybe He made me slow so I’d have to run (fastly!) to Him! Keep on keeping on. You do all you do well, and the book promises to be yet another meaningful publication.
Love you!!
Lynn
Yes, you will make it through, Michelle, hard seasons or not. Thank you for your refreshing candor – all of us go through those tough times, but can’t express it in words. You inspired me today to keep plugging away, one step at a time.
Blessings!
This is a great post! Thanks for sharing your experience. I wish you well!
I enjoyed your article about working through a difficult time in your running, and then finding after some time that the ease and pleasure of your running returned although slowly, but in God’s time. I feel your analogy to difficulty in writing as a season where it will improve as did your running. God puts us into seasons in order to get our attention. I also remember the words to help me when I’m stuck or have problems…”This too shall pass.” I can see God’s hand in all the situations that are disagreeable and tough. I must trust Him in all times and let Him work in my heart that He might transform areas in my life to the image of Christ.