The Courage to Keep Going: Lessons from Running

Over the weekend, I ran my first 5k. I haven't run much in the past two years, mostly due to being pregnant and having a baby. I wasn't sure how my body would do. My expectations were low, but I was excited to try, to listen to my body, and to honor what she needed in the process. And it was a powerful experience.

My counselor brain was on fire with analogies. I ran with my brother and sister-in-law but ended up behind them for most of the race. I didn't have a watch on me, and I really didn't know how much longer I had for most of the race, except for moments when I overheard a sweet mom telling her daughter how much she had left to do. It made me think about the healing journey and how often we don't know how long it will last. That can be really hard. It can make it difficult to keep going when we don't have a concept of time or see what lies ahead. But then, those moments of hearing that mom encourage her daughter really helped me. It was nice to know the distance left, but also hearing the voice of someone running in it with me, though not connected to me, was so encouraging and spurred me on.

The other thing that really struck me was how similar running a race is to the process of healing. Sometimes I was running through a cement neighborhood, sometimes through grass, sometimes shade. Sometimes it was beautiful. Sometimes it was not. But it was all part of it.

At one point of the race, I had gotten to a beautiful spot on the trail and instead of pushing myself to run, I let myself walk and soak in the beauty, and that gave me what I needed to keep going. I kept thanking my body, even in the discomfort, for carrying me through.

When I got to the end of the race and ran my little legs out the final stretch, hearing the cheers of the people felt like the water I needed to finish. And when I saw my brother at the end, I burst into tears. He asked me what the emotion was, and it was such a mix. It was release. It was wonder. It was gratitude. It was the feeling of, "I just did something really hard!" And it was the feeling of seeing someone safe at the end of it all that loves me. And though I was in some physical pain, I felt so alive from feeling it all.

And the emotion also came from thinking about all my clients, past and present. Moments where I got to witness them in the "cement neighborhood" or in those moments where they didn't think they could do it. Or even those moments of asking me how long it would take. And unlike the race, there is not a clear finish line, and that is what makes connection so important. And why I am so grateful to be jogging next to them, reminding them that they are not alone. And that they have what it takes.

And man, do we all need that!