Half-Marathon-Induced Reflections

Heaven and Earth both are still watching, though time is draining from the clock.
-Mary Oliver

Yesterday I ran a half-marathon. I wouldn’t recommend anyone else doing it the way I did, with a friend casually inviting me to join with only four weeks notice, and myself being very far outside any kind of regular running practice. And yet, I have come to believe in omens. There is a certain way in which life presents you with opportunities. And if the opportunity speaks to your heart, and makes it happy, and also a little bit afraid, then you have to say yes. I’ve learned that your heart will always ask you to do things that you cannot quite do. That’s how it ensures that we don’t stay the same person for our entire lives, which is the only true tragedy.

Why is it important that we don’t stay the same person? I think it’s because change is the only thing about life that’s totally constant. (That, and irony.) Even if we don’t think we’re changing, we are. If we hold on to who we are and what we have as tightly as we can, we’ll see ourselves change from someone who is ignoring their heart’s pleas for adventure, to someone who can barely hear them anymore, until eventually we have to bear the burden of being someone who missed their chance for adventure entirely. And every human heart yearns for adventure. And so, with that, the only thing we have to figure out is which direction we want to change in.

Yesterday, I was someone who had never run a half-marathon before. Today, I’m someone who has run a half-marathon, and also someone whose feet and ankles have magically aged forty years overnight. One could argue that the person I am today isn’t objectively any better than the person I was yesterday. And they would be right, except for the fact that I like the person I am today, and maybe that’s all that really matters. The person I am today is someone who did something they couldn’t quite do, and were a little bit afraid of. Tomorrow, I’ll be someone else.

Mary Oliver’s poem continues: go slowly, if you must, but let your heart continue to play its true part.

Our lives are a voyage. Our hearts are a compass. For me, true north feels like excitement plus a little bit of fear. What does it feel like for you? And are you willing to let the voyage change you?