finisher!

Yet feeling less than triumphant. It's taken me a week, and I'm still not sure what to say about the marathon experience.

I finished. Yet I feel no sense of accomplishment. In fact, I've been fighting a bout of self hatred more intense than bouts past. I'm agry at myself for running that friggin' marathon, for pushing, for trying to accomplish yet another outward goal that brings me nothing but pain.

I thought I signed up for this marathon for the journey, the process, not for the finish line. And I did, I really did. But I think there was a small part of me that thought if I could power through that 26.2 miles despite all the odds against me, something would change. My life would be okay. I would finally be okay. But that didn't happen.

God damn.

So, I have learned something very important here: the more I shoot to achieve something outside myself, the more I distance myself from my Self. I have been more disconnected from my body this past week than ever. I've felt like crap, I've been lying around in my flannel jammies every chance I get, avoiding the mess that is my house, eating bagels and cookies and mac and cheese. Comfort food that brings nothing but discomfort.

I've been hating my body, hating my life, hating my job(s), hating myself for all of the aforementioned hatables. It's sick. The first thing I thought when I saw the finisher photo of myself was "look at that fucking gut on her."

I'm a mess. And I've never been more in touch with my ugliest demon: I fear that I am utterly unlovable as I am, no matter what I do. I'm intensely aware of how ironic this is, especially with the outporing of love and support I've received from family, friends, colleagues, students. It helps, it really does. But only I alone can face down this demon. And it will have to come from compassion for the ugly beast. Whoowee. It ain't easy.

And my foot hurts like a bitch. Did I mention that?

So what have I done to try to jolt myself out of the post marathon stress disorder? I saw many members of my team for reinforcement: my chiropractor, my therapist, my massage therapist. They ask me to practice loving-kindness toward myself, to learn from this experience, and to not punish myself for not having all the answers. I'm trying.

I'm also trying to quit eating crap and start sending healing energy to my foot. My chiropractor says he doesn't think it's a stress fracture, just a tendon strain. Resting is hard.

I cancelled class twice last week because I simply couldn't get out of my jammies and drag my ass into public to face anyone. Then I did, and it was better.

I reviewed two dance performances this week. Ya think the universe is sending me a loud enough message about my body? Get in touch with that body, watch others performing in their bodies, knowing their bodies, training their bodies, trusting their bodies. Now your turn.

I don't know if I'll ever run a marathon again. I'd like to reach for things that bring me joy, I'd like to spend more time reaching inward. I'd like to practice being gentle with myself as a habit, not on the rare, forced occasion. I'd like to learn to become centered in my body when I become most vulnerable, rather than pulling away from my physical being. I'd like to sit with my power, with my fragility, with my grief and observe myself exactly as I am, without judgment.

This is the training for the marathon that is my life. I've been running since I was born. I think the time has come to stand still.