“No matter what, you have to be real,” said my good friend and triathlete Erin when I asked for her advice on starting a blog. “No one will read your writing if they don’t believe you are giving them all you have – showing them your heart.” Her words echo through my mind as my left foot touches down right smack in the deepest part of a slush puddle as icy water splashes up and hits me in the face. I sigh and think, leave it to Erin to somehow emphasize her point even when she’s not running with me.
Less than two hours ago, the world was covered by a white, heavy snowfall that came out of nowhere in the dark of night – departing just as quickly as it developed. I awoke to a picture-postcard view that would entice even the most warm-blooded Florida natives to visit Colorado. As I’m splashing along, I can feel the intense Colorado sunshine bullying the beautiful snowflakes until they have been reduced to crystal-clear snow melt rushing past my feet as I jump up onto the sidewalk.
Because it’s Wednesday, I’m scheduled to run a moderately-paced five miler. The bright and cool midday escape makes this the perfect meditation run – the type of run that enlivens me instead of exhausts me. So, true to form, my mind rewinds a bit and I resume my thought-track with Erin as the main character. I remember telling Erin that I really just wanted to write a blog to promote RunningPretty – to show how it was born, the power it could have on women, and what I’m struggling to do to breathe life into it before I put it to rest. In fact, I told her I was quite uncomfortable with the idea of sharing my soft underbelly with the world. But then, something happened and I realize it now – especially after I happened to catch this Tweet passing ever-so-quietly through my Twitter feed.
“It is our hearts that we long for others to hear, and we long to hear the heart of another. Speaking mind to mind never truly convinces anyone.”
Yes, it is all about the heart. I never really saw it coming until the day I cried reading one of my own stories to my then 9-year old daughter. I had stopped the emotional editing and began ‘writing real.’ Now, it’s virtually impossible to squeeze myself back into the armor that protected my heart ever since I was a child. The unintended consequence is that now I write for me. About me. For you. And for every other human heart that may need a little perspective and maybe a small glimmer of hope. We are not living this life alone. We cannot.
One of the best unintended consequences – meeting Jenn.
While my theme is about the power of running, I realize that I’m often not actually writing about running at all. It’s about who we are, and what we need, and how we cope – all of which becomes much clearer on the road as the sun is rising or on the treadmill as I am being entranced by the whirring motor. Every day that I am blessed to wake up and lace up gives me a way to connect with even just one person. People suffer. Children grow up. Love is possible. God is good. Hearts break. Pure joy is a gift. Who are we if we’re not experiencing every exhilarating moment of it?
My feet are completely soaked as I’m striding down the small hill that leads to my front door. Puddle-jumping on runs like these is actually quite liberating. Much like giving up the fight to stay dry, I’ve given up the fight to build a brand. Maybe, just maybe, the unintended consequence of all this is that I actually did build one. But, no matter what, running, reflecting and writing has opened up a new world for me – allowing me to look much deeper into my own self. Surprisingly, what I’ve uncovered on the road hasn’t been as frightening as I imagined. At the same time, I’ve been blessed that my writing has reached the hearts of others who are also trying to find their way and appreciate knowing they are not alone. Then there are those who help me by sharing their insight, their care and their support through comments – both online and real time. The most surprising result is that there are also those who just instinctively know that the heart is the only thing that really makes us whole and keeps us alive. That is why they read.
Two years ago, my hope was to use this blog to reach Elisabeth Hasselbeck. To me, she epitomized RunningPretty and a brand that was so much less about looking perfect outside than it was about feeling pretty inside – pretty confident, pretty determined, pretty comfortable. So much has changed, I think as I jump in just one more puddle before heading inside. Who knows, I may meet Elisabeth one of these days after all. And, well, if I don’t, I’m quite sure I will meet someone else.
