Most of the time there isn’t a right or a wrong.
There’s a spectrum.
This makes life tricky to say the least.
And so, we do the best we can.
Over and over again. Often until we have unconscious habits.
Things we don’t stop to question—until something happens and/or somebody says something.
Because sometimes there is a right and a wrong way. And sometimes it’s been wrong all along.
“You’re doing it wrong.”
“Wait, what?”
This is what my Physical Therapist told me last month as I ran on the treadmill for the first time several weeks after my bike accident.
Apparently, I was driving my heels into the ground, a much harder impact for my legs, my hips, my back, instead of kicking off my toes.
Well, no wonder running has always been so difficult!
Of course, every body’s different. But, there are natural and unnatural ways for our bodies to move. And, apparently modern shoes encourage unnatural ways of moving.
Thus, there is a right and a wrong way to run.
Running this new, right way made a night and day difference. It was so much smoother and easier.
I had no idea how much harder I was making it on myself than it needed to be, than it should be.
Instead of questioning the process, I blamed it on myself.
I had sensed something was off, but I told myself it was because, “I didn’t have a runner’s body.”
Pushing through recurring injuries and rehab over the last 15 years, finding the triumph of accomplishment just slightly more rewarding than the struggle it took to compete—I just kept going.
No questions asked.
Discomfort had become my norm.
Constantly ignored, my body had long ago given up on offering warning signs and settled for compensating—its attempt at finding equilibrium—and surviving, which I mistook as thriving.
I ran a total of 12 miles in a relay race a couple weeks ago. Because of my injured knee, I ran intervals: 4 minutes running, 1 minute walking. During each 4-minute segment, I refocused on running the right way with each step, even as I grew tired.
Even injured, I marveled at how much I enjoyed running now that I knew how to do it right.
Sometimes there is a right and a wrong way. And sometimes it’s been wrong all along.
It started off wrong and we let it stay wrong.
Settling for the wrong way holds us back from being whole.
We know how to be whole, how to be in our natural state.
Our bodies tell us how all the time. Are you listening?
All it takes is pausing to listen, asking for help and then receiving it.
The whole cannot be whole without all of you.
May you have the courage to listen and follow your body’s guidance this week.
Love,
Jules