Oh, the ways I learn to let go. Or, better put, am forced to let go.
This weekend has proven to be yet another opportunity to loosen the grip on my expectations. Breathe a bit, and let go.
It began with missing the BoltBus down to DC Thursday afternoon.
Sometimes it is just the oddest series of circumstances that makes sticking to the plan nearly impossible.
Between the rain, the express train running all local stops, and the bus stop moving 5 avenues further away from where I picked it up last, it was the perfect storm to miss the bus by the frustrating sum of 3 minutes.
I threw about a 90 second tantrum. I felt sorry for myself. I beat myself up for not leaving earlier. I even said to the lady, “Really? 3 minutes late?” Like that was going to bring back the bus.
It was a full-on, albeit abbreviated, pity party.
I let go. Because what else can you do? I opened my laptop and got to work. The next bus was two hours later. My only option: to wait–with bells on.
Yesterday, I was scheduled to run my long 20-mile training run. I was excited to run through DC and had spent some time mapping out the whole thing. It was to be a grand glorious loop to see much of the city I spent so much time in as a kid.
I was nervous from the start that I didn’t know exactly where I was going. I took a screen shot of my parking spot on gmaps, just in case.
I was less than 3 miles into the thing when I came to my second fork in the road with no proper signage. I asked for help only to be led in the wrong direction. At about mile six, I was deep in the trails of Rock Creek Park with no clear sign of which way was out. I had to stop just to get my bearings about me with the help of GPS.
When I finally got onto the right route, I took a wrong turn and next thing I knew I was back at the car. Only 10 miles done. And mentally exhausted.
I stubbornly ran past the car and headed north on the trail I’d previously ventured south, hoping to eek out the rest of my mileage on a more manageable route. I got another mile and 1/2 in the other direction before that also became evidently improbable.
I let go.
Sometimes no matter how hard you try, you just can’t force it.
I was previously the queen of forcing it. I’ve since given up that crown.
To say I’m after the letting go crown now would be oximoronic of sorts (is that a word?). Secretly I still want it though.
I leave you with this: Where in your life can you loosen the grip? What’s got you white knuckled? Pry each digit one at a time. It’s worth the ahhhhhhh.
**This was today’s run: Much happier camper.
13 yesterday, 13 today. My legs hate me.
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Kat Hurley is a transformational author, speaker and personal development coach, making over motivation @The Year of Magical Dreaming. For the full 411, visit kathurley.com, yo!