I'm still running, some days that has to be enough
I don't give myself credit enough for the things I accomplish. For victories small or large.
No. I am far better at picking a part all of my failings (as I call them).
In fact, failure is my go to word.
Pretty harsh for a mama runner PhD.
And yet it's the one word I cannot shake.
F-A-I-L-U-R-E
So, where did failure come from? I didn't start out a failure. In fact I was a pretty good kid, mostly straight A's, rule follower, blah blah blah. Then after busting my ass for four years I missed the IB diploma by one point. Then I was refused entry into every military branch (but apparently if I had lied about taking anti-depressants as a teenager I could have enlisted).
I shrugged it all off, hell I was going to Emory University.
I was still something.
And then I wasn't. Once there I became lost in a sea of "top" students, and I was barely average...sinking in big lectures designed to each us that not every one goes to med school.
I had my first big ME breakdown (as in not related to previous familial issues).
If you think I just couldn't hack it, you would be right.
Neither could the beautiful young woman who took her life that year at Emory.
Pressure don't play.
So I left. First time I had ever quit anything. And so began my journey into failure.
It gets better, but first it got a whole helluva lot worse.
Apparently you can't be a failure until you STOP trying all together.
Which I did...for two years. Yes, for two whole years I will allow myself the title of failure.
And then one day I wasn't. I found my feet again. I put one foot in front of the other and I was no longer failing. I listened to that inner voice telling me to get up and keep going.
I was not meant to be a failure.
My story contained a very notable semicolon.
I have two graduate degrees, a sexy/brilliant/loves-me-to-the-moon-and-beyond spouse, two phenomenal kiddos, and I am now on to 10 miles in my half-marathon training.
I am definitely not failing anyone, especially not myself.
Run strong. Be RAD.
No. I am far better at picking a part all of my failings (as I call them).
In fact, failure is my go to word.
Pretty harsh for a mama runner PhD.
And yet it's the one word I cannot shake.
I shrugged it all off, hell I was going to Emory University.
I was still something.
I had my first big ME breakdown (as in not related to previous familial issues).
If you think I just couldn't hack it, you would be right.
Neither could the beautiful young woman who took her life that year at Emory.
Pressure don't play.
It gets better, but first it got a whole helluva lot worse.
I was not meant to be a failure.
My story contained a very notable semicolon.
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