In 2013 I was diagnosed with sarcoidosis, an autoimmune disorder that chewed a hole in my cerebellum, atrophied various muscles, impaired my vision, balance, coordination and consequently stole my ability to run. I have dedicated the summer of 2018 to regaining my strength, coordination, balance, and relearning how to run. I am participating in a 5k run on September 23rd in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. This is my training journal. This is my attempt to grow physically strong again.

Write on. Fight on.  

The previous training sessions can be found here, under “Fight on- Summer Training Log”

Time:

6:50 am to 7:30 am

Conditions:

Outdoor- 77 degrees

Training Maxim:

No hurry. No pause.

Training Performed:

40 minutes of continuous intervals of walking and jogging.

Accomplishment:

Jogging a quarter mile to finish today’s training.

Quote I’m Thinking About Today:

“The reasonable man adapts himself to the world: the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.”  ~ George Bernard Shaw, Man and Superman

Reflection:

I enjoy jogging–accept when I’m approaching another jogger.

When I see another jogger I suddenly become self-conscious.

I worry the other jogger will cast judgments upon my slow pace and herky-jerky form. Then after training, they will sit in a loose circle with their tightly muscled friends, sip protein shakes and talk about how this morning they passed a man jogging so slow that by the time he finishes his run his clothes will be out of style.

Vanity is a dangerous motivator. We want to stride across the eyes of others looking confident, composed, and strong.

But as a runner, writer, and struggling human being, I know vanity is a lonely road. Vanity is inauthentic and creates insecurity.  Vanity always disturbs pace, form, and progress. Vanity tricks you into that thinking that joy is easily attained.

The truth is–runners, writers and human beings are not always smooth or graceful, composed and balanced. We are erratic, frustrated and wavering.

And the sooner we dismiss the passing glance of another and accept, for better or worse, who we are–the sooner we will find joy in our actions.

From The Previous Training Session-July 10: What Advice Would I Give Myself?

As a 12th grade teacher, I’m often asked by students, who are about to graduate high school and embark on adulthood, for advice. Advice on facing fears, following passions, sustaining long-distance relationships, repairing relationships, and overcoming physical limitations.

But what if I were my own student? What advice would I give myself?

Keep going.