I was maybe born an odd bird. I was ALWAYS planning,
scheduling, creating my own timeline of goals. I for some reason assumed all
people did this. I remember dividing up
my days into categories of how long I would do certain sports, practices, even
as a super little kid. (one of my “schedules” even had an allowance for me to
have a time interval to play frogger on our Attari). Maybe I can consider this
my first foray into “interval training!”
I remember creating a long-term plan, counting the years: If every year I move up a level in the USA Gymnastics system at the time, I could be a level 1 gymnast possibly by the time I’m 14 and then maybe an Olympian at 17. (There had to be a plan- 1992 would have been my only year, of course. In that time, you “could be” an Olympic gymnast anytime between 16-20 years old (not officially- just size wise). After that, you were essentially too old, or too big, or a little of both. Maybe this was the cause for my intense planning? Time was of the essence. Every day counted.
A vivid memory I will always remember is being in the backyard
one summer day with my mom. I was maybe 7-8?
She was sitting on this wire white “rocker swing” with big cushions. I was on the grid that was this cement plot
of back yard patio we had at the time.
In my mind, I was wowing her with my gymnastics skills and leaps and
jumps that I was repeating over and over on the fake beam that those lines
made. I decided it was then the time
that I was going to reveal to her what I already knew: I was going to be an
Olympian. I don’t remember how I told her, but I remember it was immediately
squashed. I remember her words, “Oh, Sharon, you can’t do that. You know only a very small number make it.” I
also remember my true personality coming out.
I was NOT pleased. And I made a classic face where my eyes maybe tried
to dig daggers into her being. Do NOT tell me what I can and cannot do was my
essence.
So, I carried on with all my goals, plans and schemes, to go
for this goal. I didn’t speak out loud about it, but it was a daily, hourly
knowing. This was my way of living from the 3rd grade on. I was a good student, AND… I also spent about
50% of my time in school visualizing my routines, dreaming, planning. One of
the foundations of my being, the essence of me, was that there would NEVER be someone who
outworked me in the thing that was most dear to my heart- my gymnastics dreams. I recognized that even the mental visualization and preparation were important.
As someone growing up on eggshells, it is a classic response- hold tightly to what you CAN control. Or build things to control. Well, this was something I could control. I could control my work ethic. I could always be the first to arrive, last to leave and the most efficient throughout practice. I could do the most reps, complete routines, fill any waiting in line gaps with strategic work on the side. I was building the etches of my being of becoming uber-efficient. I came home and carried on the work. I remember when I moved my bed so the side of it was up against a wall and I would prop a leg against a wall to sleep in a semi split position. I was always looking for the little extras. I had a beam at home in the basement and a mat, an outdoor beam also made by my dad I would use in summer. Eventually I begged to get a bar put up between 2 trees to swing and pullup on. I was all in.
As my high school years came to a close and I was forced to
face the devastating truth that I in fact would not make this dream come true,
I took the lessons I had learned with me.
I created new dreams but kept the work ethic. After being wait-listed and feeling like I
didn’t truly deserve to go to the college I transferred to (uva), I arrived
scared as shit. Inside, I believed there was a chance I couldn’t make it there;
I was ready to have to fight so hard every moment, so I did. (I also loved it- there is to this day not
much that gives me a filling of joy from working with intense passion as I have
in the things in life that I love). I studied not to know facts and concepts,
but in a way that I could explain and teach a lesson if I were asked. As you
can see (picture below), I not only memorized every highlighted section of my books, but I also
fully LEARNED through and through. I couldn’t control if I felt that I truly
belonged, but I could control how hard I worked to stay there, to get
great grades and to have choices for my future. I was not in a position to fail;
there was no safety net and I was fully aware of both the opportunity and the
risk. I knew I could count on myself to do the work. Anything that I chose
to spend my time doing was worthy of all my effort.
I grew up with a complete fear of losing. There was only one #1 spot. And if you were
on top, in my mind, there was only one direction to go- down. The focus,
whether or not I created or amplified that in my own mind and type A nature or
through the system of the sport was always to keep your eyes peeled on who was
ramping up to “take your spot.” I lived and breathed this way daily. At an early age, there was always more to
do in sport: more practice, more conditioning, and ultimately, (again, at least
in my brain), less eating. AND HARDER WORK. Naturally, after years of being all in, I continued this lifestyle and replaced my focus in the direction of college work. Studying was the thing that now was my obsession (mixed in with a healthy dose of running, lifting obsession for staying fit as well). My nervous system was a wreck and on overdrive through both undergraduate and grad school.
Nearing the end of college, I began running marathons and
training for triathlons and of course, I erred on the side of doing too
much. I kept this work ethic that was
rooted in an all or nothing way of thinking.
I was so scared of not being able to even do this new sport that I
ensured I was doing all the things, all the miles, all the laps, all the hours.
It worked. Until it didn’t. *Did I mention in the above paragraph my nervous
system? It was now 25-30 years of whirring at unhealthy levels.
My hard work resulted in a career that I am very proud of, a
business that has now thrived for 20 years now.
AND. I still operate to some extent with an element of fear. I keep a few clothes/pants that are “work
pants” in case I need to someday go to an office job (which honestly those
pants wouldn’t even probably be acceptable, but I’m scared to donate). I’ve
worked very hard. AND, I also had a life event over 10 years ago that forced me
to sit down. Stand down. Back off of it all. Learn to sit. Reconsider the importance
of the drive and be very clear that my top goal was taking care of my kids. And
that did not include being the most efficient parent. That did not include living in a way where
the days were a means to an end. I knew very clearly that I needed and WANTED
to slow down. I was done with the race.
And so, I learned to sit on my porch. I practiced sitting. To
not press everything forward, but to learn to be okay in the moment. Yoga became
a daily settling and stilling of my mind and heart. Let me be clear: I did not just “boom” learn this. I still haven’t. But I have worked on it, and I continue to. I forced myself to sit. I still do.
I’m still not comfortable. As a business owner, human, adult, there is
always something more to do. There is always more you can do in every aspect of
life yet I remind myself of my recognition of living in integrity of the
fullness of who I am as an entire person. I no longer believe I need to fight
to be worthy. I simply am. I don’t need to fight so hard just to earn my right
to be on this earth, there is no scarcity of worthiness. I can be still and this doesn't make me less. I can finally sit down.
And there is the natural slowing down not just of hitting rock bottom due to situational events, but the wisdom age and the evidence learned of getting through hard things that adds to the clarity of seeing that my worth is not defined by my grind. I'm learning over and over that self-worth isn’t something you earn by doing more, compromising yourself, or giving yourself away. My worth has nothing to do with beating myself to a pulp to prove that I have some sort of iron will.
My worth is more dependent on my being able to breathe and be fully in my life, fully intentional.
I’m learning that my worth is based on the fundamental seeing that I don’t have to fight, be scared, win anything. I can just BE. I can just BE. I can just BE.
I’ve learned about my type of… personality or drive, or
tendency to become obsessive about the goals I set for myself. I’m careful to
be very self-aware that I’m never losing sight of the essence of the drive, the
“why” and reason for setting the goal. I
am very careful not to lose sight of my love for training for goals, movement, the feeling
of challenge, the pushing and learning about myself as a person THROUGH sport
and rising to the challenges of life. In the book, “The Passion Paradox,” I’m
reminded that “passion rooted in fear comes at quite a cost, and rarely, if
ever, is sustainable.” I’m sincere in my
effort to not lose sight of the AWE of the moment, the feeling of being
immersed in movement and challenge as the real feeling I’m striving for. I’m never striving to really stand at the top
of the podium, and I’m very proud of myself for being able to recognize that my
goals now are living in a way that pushes me as a person to reach my potential,
while being AWARE and making intentional choices of what is worthy of my time
and attention and focus. My success now has nothing to do with beating
someone else and everything to do with following and staying true to my path.
MINE ALONE.
It hasn’t been easy to shift from a rigid all or nothing
mindset to a way of intentionally letting things be a little bit LESS. This mindset shift helps me shift from a
scarcity thought pattern to a sustainable lifelong and evolving relationship to
goals and sport.
I spend intentional time being very clear to myself on my
goals- what is it that I am truly seeking. For example, in training right now for a
marathon in early September- my goal isn’t solely on the race or race results, it
is on the process. I want to be healthy
each week and follow the plan and have my plan bring me joy and fitness and
health. I want to feel thrilled that I
know I am putting myself out there to have the privilege of doing something
that lights my soul up so fully inside. Knowing that I’ve done the work, put in
the hard work- some of which is taking rest days, backing off so that I can
build stronger, then- race day- whatever that brings is what is exactly my
place to be. On race day, I will be exhilarated by the joy of the opportunity, the struggles that will come, and what I learn about myself making it through. Of course I'd like the race to be a success, and to me, that means finishing feeling strong and that I worked hard, and mixed that with patience, that I never gave up.
I’m in a place now in my 50's where I am practicing the balance of fierce: hard work marathon training, mixed in with self kindness: the wisdom of time, age and
experience. Each week, I am digging in
to find my potential while at the same time talking to myself, seeing how my
body is, listening to my energy and discerning what it is that I need
(including sitting like a lump at the side of the pool reading a book!). I am
aware of age, of new health diagnosis that are affecting me AND ALSO, I am
seeking out: what is the hardest training plan I can do that will prove to me
that I have trained smart, efficient and effective to reach my best version
of me. I want to walk to the start line with the contentment in my heart that I
have done it all- worked the hardest that is right for me. (The Aloha of Kauai and the pre-marathon ceremony certainly are right in there with this vibe!)
It sometimes saddens me that I am just learning this so late in life. But it is also a thrill that I know I have been doing the work and will continue. I have done this work for over 30 years to dig deep into my own soul and go in the direction that I knew was better than the original hard worker- grinding for worth way of living. Better for me, better for my kids and those around me to see as a model. I’m not perfect, no one is, but I am working daily TOWARDS a better direction, and aware of both my strengths and weaknesses.
SOOO..... this harder worker award. It is so important to me. It was my
fundamental soul. And it is also a reminder to me of my current truth. I’ve
come a long way and I still am in the work. I want and still strive to be a hard
worker. Very hard in fact. I will always consider it a gift from God to work to
the potential that is available in us. But not to the detriment of myself. Not
without open eye awareness and the ability to check in with what is really the
best for me. I don’t need to be scared
anymore or fight a fight that I’m not really in.
I train hard. And I
also often cut runs 1 mile short.
Knowing that cutting short is always better than doing too much and
getting injured.
I’m feeling the balance: I work hard AND I also
have boundaries where I am not available to work. Because I have learned that to be the best
trainer and coach and mom and person and athlete, I need to be healthy and
energized and FULL. I learn to do my life and work in “seasons” and take some
days off in between. I can be a really gritty hard worker, and I can also
balance that with “just being.”
I know who I am at my core. I don't need to prove this to myself or others any longer, and that feels nice. AND, I do continue to still strive to live with the awake awareness of what I am reaching for, why, what is worthy of my time and attention, what needs more, what needs less. I'm never expecting myself to be perfect at this, but I do plan to continue being awake and intentional; working hard, and balancing that with rest. I'm writing this from my porch rocking chair. (This writing has actually taken me a long time. I'm not sure exactly why. Sometimes I fire things off so easily. I think this means a lot to me and I wanted to think more, untangle some of the years of where I've been. If you are reading, thanks for caring and spending your time on my story; I'd love to hear yours).
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