Turning a Page in My Narrative

It’s been awhile since I’ve openly shared anything, and honestly, that’s because I felt it was important for me to not take myself so seriously for awhile as I settled into enjoying a new life in Colorado. While I am thankfully LOVING it here and have found so many activities, places, and people that make me happy, these past few months have still been some of the hardest in my life, because I once again was unable to enjoy the sport I am so passionate about due to injury. One day, during a particularly overwhelming moment, I remember writing in my journal that I felt like a hypocrite; because while I generally am a very positive and happy person, beneath the surface I was dealing with a lot of negativity and anger. After all the adverse circumstances that I have dealt with for the past several years, there became a part of me that resented running, didn’t believe in myself anymore, and honestly just wanted to escape from what my life had become (since so much of it was oriented toward a career in running, but with little fruition). In this way, I felt very far from myself–to the extent that I would sometimes question, who am I and what am I doing? The most prevalent battle in my mind was wrestling with fear of the following: am I just too damaged (physically and mentally) to ever succeed again as an elite athlete? Have I messed myself up too much to ever get it right? This is the raw reality of what I was (and am still) facing, and it’s something that I wish wasn’t the truth that I had to share–which, I’ll admit, is why I often kept these struggles to myself and tried to pretend it wasn’t my reality at all. I lost so much confidence that I didn’t want to voice what I was going through or even be seen, because I felt broken and ashamed.

But still, true to my nature, as I reflect, I see beauty and purpose deep within experiencing this. Because even though the past few months have made me feel like I’ve turned into a complete mess, I somehow can still look within myself and find a sense of reassurance that this is just part of finding my way back to what I want, and that I am still worthy of my own trust in doing so. If you’re in the process of healing from something, I think it can still be staying true to yourself to “lose” yourself, if that’s what it takes to reestablish a happier, healthier version of you (whether it applies to athletics or life in general). I’ve faced multiple moments where I’ve seriously wrestled with wanting to give up and let myself disappear, but then God sparks moments (like the one from a few months ago that inspired me to write the poem I included on my Instagram post) that remind me that listening to that voice of fear is not what I do. I am a warrior, and because I’m His, I am destined to overcome any battle–especially those that I experience within myself. I will stay true to honoring my unique process of healing, even if it’s not what others, or even myself, would want it to look like. 

It’s hard to not think that I’m a lost cause, when my journey seems to have fallen too far outside the narrative/timeline that the sport sets as the expected standard for success. But when I consider this, I think of how many others may be out there feeling the same way, when it doesn’t actually need to be the end of their story. In my case (and maybe that of others) I think the overwhelming thoughts of doubt may not necessarily come from me, but from what I assume the running world may think of me. But I know that in my heart, I’m still set on fulfilling a vision of what I can become, even if it seems unbelievable after so many setbacks and defeats. Who’s to say that if the timeline of my comeback is longer, that it won’t still happen? I’ve decided that I’d rather be the person who has made every mistake in the book, yet refused to give up the goal of reaching my potential in my own time and fashion, than the one who did it all perfectly. I’d rather be proof that the broken can be put back together stronger, turn their brokenness into their superpower, and demonstrate how God’s ways are simply greater than our own ideals. I know that I will continue to face many ups and downs, but I’m turning a page in the narrative I’ve been telling myself. Simply writing this has helped remind myself of who I am; that is, someone who wants to live in the light and share that experience with others. And even in my darkest moments, I know that the truth of who I am will never change, because of the One who makes me who I am. I’m His Champion, even if I’m the only one who can know that victory in my spirit. 

I’m not done yet, and I’m still finding my way back to the place of freedom where I can push my limits in running, but I simply got to a point where the only way I was able to do that was to truly take time to step away from what that endeavor requires. After desperately fighting to get back on track as fast as possible for the past 3+ years, I finally allowed myself to let go of desperately fighting and forcing my way, because it kept turning into my own demise. Even though being gentle with yourself can be the absolute hardest thing to do when you want to achieve excellence, I think that sometimes it’s a necessary step (for a period of time) to reevaluate and refortify the strengths that will get you there. While I can’t wait to get dialed in again, prepare to compete, and chase big goals, I also want to celebrate how I’ve taken the opportunity to embrace life outside of my sport when I wasn’t able to do so, and how I’ve been able to further explore/rediscover other parts of my identity. That’s something that I’ve worked hard to allow myself, and even when on the outside it seems counterintuitive to what success in the sport requires, I have simply accepted that this is part of my process of truly becoming all I can be. We should be free to determine our own journeys, rather than limiting ourselves according to society’s expectations and defeating ideals that we compare ourselves to. That being said, I don’t want to be afraid of sharing what my personal journey looks like (even though I still face that fear every time before I post or write anything). I want to be authentic and real in all aspects, and not be ashamed to do so. 

There is no singularly defined image of who I am, so I won’t shy away from expressing all the things that my life, joys, and personality consist of–even if that’s not what an audience always prefers to see. After all, I have nothing to prove to anyone–not even to myself–when I am perfectly known and understood by the only One whose thoughts of me are all that matter. He knows my heart, and that’s all that I choose to take confidence in, even if no one else will ever fully understand it in the same entirety. It’s because of who He is that I will always know who I am, and so I will keep rising in the ways He has called me to follow. And I won’t lose hope in what I can become!