I’m a runner. Many runners worst nightmare goes a little something like this. Every runner knows his or her pace. They know the pace they train at. They know their easy pace, their tempo pace and their interval pace. They know this because they’ve done it before. They’ve practiced at these paces. Scientifically they calculated their pace, they knew what they should be able to attain and then they did it. It’s been done before so it can be done again.
Races are another story. Nobody trains at race pace. If you train at race pace it’s not race pace, it’s training pace. Race pace is faster than you’ve ever run before. Race pace is pushing your lungs to uptake more oxygen than they ever have before. Race pace forces your muscles to process lactic acid waste faster than it ever has before. Race pace is no guarantee.
Races are the test for the runner. They answer questions that can’t be answered anywhere else by anyone else. Runners call it “bonking”. Bonking is going out hard and fast, going out at race pace. The bonk occurs at the exact moment that you know you can’t keep up the pace. It’s when your mind convinces your body that you have made a mistake and rather than cross the finish line in glorious fashion with a time personal record you’ll be the runner crossing the line sucking wind, maybe limping. People will feel sorry for you. You failed.
Every race I’ve participated in I said, “Who cares?” Who cares if I bonk? Really who cares if I fail? Sure I’ll get those annoyingly sympathetic looks when I limp across the finish but that will only be temporary, knowing I didn’t run to my full potential would be worse. So when I race I run race pace. I push my body to the limits of what it thinks it can handle and when my brain tells my body to slow down I force my body to go faster. Its amazing feeling. Not just racing hard, but giving yourself permission to fail.
I got an email today from a friend of mine. She and her husband are good friends of ours and they are also a very integral part of our church. Her email was one of the most encouraging things I’ve received since The Bridge started. She gave me permission to FAIL. I didn’t ask her for it but she said it. She gave me permission to fail and that permission is so liberating. I thought about that and I thought about what often holds me back, it’s not FAILURE. It’s the FEAR OF FAILURE.
Maybe it’s time to send an email! Address it to your friends, to your parents, to your children, to your coworkers, to whomever else you can think of. Give them permission to fail. Give them permission to push their limits and blow the whole thing up. Give them permission to be embarrassed and to have hurt dignity, give them permission to fail.
Before you click send make sure you CC yourself!
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