I ask myself this coaching question whenever i’m faced with a dilemma (thank you Susan Hyatt!). Still in New Orleans. My husband and I have a routine when we travel: he goes for an exploratory early morning run while I sleep and discovers the perfect breakfast spot, as well as interesting places to meander through for the day. This routine has worked well for almost twenty years. As all good marriages evolve, so too has our routine. Now he comes home from his run, and maps out my run for me based on the routes he’s discovered. I’m not fast enough to run with him (yet).
Today I was thoroughly enjoying my 7km run through the vibrant French Quarter in New Orleans, soaking up the sights and sounds, when I slipped and fell. I scraped my knees and calf quite badly. Immediately I wondered if I should stop running.
It would be a very valid excuse, I was quite banged up.
I did a quick mental check – bones? intact. Joints? Still moving. It was just skin damage.
I checked my feelings in my body – give up?
Not one cell agreed to do it.
I couldn’t wait to get started again.
The reason is, running felt like love to me today.
If I had been running because I wanted to lose weight, or because I told myself I had to exercise today, or because I ate a piece of cake last night, that would have been running out of self-hatred.
And I would have jumped at the chance to use the fall as an excuse to stop.
But now exercise feels enormously like love to me.
And that’s why I do it.
And that’s why I choose it over lunch dates, manicures, or sleeping in.
And each time I run, I prove to myself that I’m worthy of my love.
And all other love can only come from that place.
