Meeting Myself Where I’m At

Wow has my running evolved, and unlike my story telling via this blog, it has been a constant as we wearily move into year three of our pandemic world. I’ve been called to write again a few times, but laziness has gotten the better of me, but here we are again, and here I am punching keys on my laptop.

My journey these past few years has been very much one of “Meeting Myself Where I’m At.” I don’t know exactly what this means, but I do know that it’s a position of running fitting my life like a glove. Gone are the regimented training schedules, days of speed work, long runs, pace targets, and every lower marathon PR’s. Here are the days of “Ultra Pedestrianism,” plodding slowly through the mountains on solo journeys that often feel like something out of a dream. Gone are the days of caring about how many races a year I can squeeze in, or my 50 mile PR, or getting a shiny new belt buckle. Here are the days of treating running like the moving meditation that it is, joining the ebbs and flow of my life and never feeling like a chore. As I’ve watched my pace slow, I’ve watched my durability increase, and my ability to pile on mile after mile, day after day grow easier and easier. Most importantly, my relationship with running is one of stability, and one of eager joy to see where next my body can take me.

I guess this is what I mean by “Meeting Myself Where I’m At.” It’s a state of entering any given day and any given run with zero expectations, and going with what feels right on that day. It’s a place where the outcome isn’t important, but the practice is everything.

The almost unbelievable colors of fall in the Chiwaukum Mountains near Leavenworth.

This used to be a place where I shared my race reports, and they largely centered around “I achieved x, y and z and kicked ass” while ostensibly having some perhaps less superficial meaningful content thrown in the mix. As I read back, there’s a lot of play by play commentary, and some “look how great I am” energy thrown in for good measure. It’s not bad, it’s also just not who I am anymore. As 2022 unfolds, I’m excited to share some more journeys, this time with the lens turning away from myself, and more toward the world I get see in its endless stunning beauty. I have found in these pandemic years, that every journey into the mountains has something to teach me, and something to show me. I notice more and more about the balance of the world around me, now nature works, each time I set foot in our glorious Cascade and Olympic Mountains. These are the stories I want to share, the ones that have changed how I view myself, and view the world around me. Meeting myself where I’m at.

Mount Adams seen from the Wonderland Trail, Mount Rainier National Park in July 2021. Beargrass is in full summer bloom in the sub-alpine meadows.