On Habits

No, not the kind the nuns used to wear, but he kind I referred to, if obliquely, in my last post. The habit of thinking of myself in a certain way, a way that puts a fence around who I can be and thus limits my access to the full range of experiences potentially within my reach. I think I don't like beets; ergo, I never get the chance to experience beets.

But there's an upside to thinking about myself as the kind of person who doesn't, who doesn't...well, fill in the blank. How about if I turn it around and think of myself as the kind of person who tries hard not to miss a Saturday morning training run with my running club? Until I made the deliberate decision to adopt the habit of perceiving myself as that kind of person, I was unconsciously thinking of myself as someone who usually flakes on Saturday mornings. But, now--


Two Saturdays ago I showed up at the club run at Crown Beach in Alameda and ran about six miles in the rain. My knee was still very much an issue at that time, but I thought of Sunshine, who has run through her knee pain and is still thriving, and I showed up. I arrived a bit late and because I was running alone veered off course at the start, but I eventually found myself by the water, rain coming down, peace in my heart. I did speed up enough to catch up with a couple of young women and so ended my run all aglow.

Then last Saturday I ran with some folks from the club who were taking it easy. Translated, that means slowly enough that I could hang with them. And instead of being "the kind of person who doesn't run hills," to stay with the group I ran up one side of a rather large hill, from Rockridge to Montclair, and then back down the other side--all with no apparent ill effects. Here I share with you a picture of my friends' sturdy feet. (I didn't get their permission to use their photo in this space, so for now this is all you get. Fine feet, though, no?)


And today I went east through the tunnel and ran in Walnut Creek, along the Iron Horse Trail. I was alone the whole way because I was extra slow, having had an annoying and invasive routine medical procedure perpetrated on my body yesterday. I probably shouldn't have run, but because I'm the kind of person who tries hard not to miss a Saturday morning training run with my running club, there I was. The air was cool, the trail was wonderfully endless, runners and bikers were out in profusion, and random trees were busting out in blossoms.

I've also been in the habit of thinking I'm the kind of person who doesn't have enough energy in the evening to get much done. Well, that person just wrote this post. Could that sucking sound be another habit flying out the window--in this case, into the night?

Danny Mo is watching me so I told him I would put his picture online. Maybe if I do that fuzzball won't jump up on the bed and land on my stomach at 3 a.m. I'm not sure I can become the kind of person who thinks a 3 a.m. cat is adorable.