As you start this week, may you conquer your small fears. Because when they’re fears, they’re big to you.
I haven’t gotten back to my running game like I had hoped this spring (I was on a no-running hiatus for a year after I tore my ACL). And quite frankly, the reason is a little ridiculous, especially now that I see it typed on a screen: I live in a desert climate.
See, I’m a Texas girl through and through. Born and raised in Austin, normal to me is 60+ days over a hundred degrees, humidity off the charts (note I said “normal,” not “preferred”). Winters can have the occasional cold snap, but they’re nothing major—most of the year my hometown’s climate is mild enough. Give me hot weather over cold any day.
So it’s rather amusing that I currently live in the high desert of central Oregon, where even in July, the mornings are in the mid-40s. In the spring, the morning lows hover somewhere between 20 to 40. And while I used to run in the afternoons, when the desert climate is more to my liking, I’ve found that lately it’s just been hard to get out the door when I’m in the thick of work or parenting stuff. Mornings are best for a number of reasons—my day just flows better if I run first thing.
I know, I know—those of you in Canada and Scandinavia are rolling your eyes at me pouting over these morning temps. But we all have our el guapos in life, and well, this one is mine. I roll out of bed, see the 35 degrees stamped on my phone, and it’s pretty easy for me to say “Nope” while I pour a cup of coffee, open a book, and snuggle in to my favorite chair.
But Friday morning… I got out the door and ran. I saw this Facebook update by my friend and AoS contributor Alysa Bajenaru:
…and I said, “Okay—I’m just doing it.” I headed out the door before my brain even realized what my body was doing.
And you know what? I didn’t die. Even more… it wasn’t that bad. I managed to run just fine in 37 degrees Fahrenheit.
I file this under Conquering Small Fears, because really, in light of plights around the world, this is nothing. Nothing. But heading out the door at 7 a.m. gave me a dose of confidence to take more risks with slightly bigger stuff the rest of the day—stuff that matters more. My work. My kids’ education. My relationships. That’s not nothing.
So as you start this week, think of one of your small fears. And face it, head on. It’s probably not as big a deal as you think, and maybe you’ll come out on the other side, just a bit more confident.