Each week I pour some leftover coffee over ice, pull up to my notebook filled, messy paper desk and attempt to write. “Get that blog up by Sunday, Steph. You started this. You finish it.” I hate committing to a thing and not following through. Because someone is always counting on you.
The pen hits the paper… Last week hit me hard… How do you deal with 4 year old tantrums and defiance… I feel like I’m in the best shape of my life… I feel guilty for success… But I want to keep the pressure on and keep excelling… My marriage is rocking right now. So I begin each stream of consciousness and then just as quickly hit delete, delete. Criticizing my thoughts, the words that hit the paper, and so I hit a roadblock. This is blogging. This is writing. This is being committing to something, attempting to follow through, getting a lump in your throat, and then still hitting POST.
I lost my voice a bit the last few weeks. As you can imagine things seem to keep taking precedence over other things. Rightfully so. My Strava segments aren’t earth shattering. My post partum journey seems without obstacles now. The world is in a global pandemic. Black communities are still facing injustice, police brutality, and simply not being seen and heard. Who gives a shit about my time trials, internal mental battles, mom guilt and even more my happiness? But it does matter. Those are my truths. And the truth is I’m loving life right now. I wake up and the sun has beaten me in rising. The smell of freshly brewed coffee offers possibility to the day. What am I going to conquer today? I am still pursuing every goal, every chance to get stronger and fitter, and test myself for those few hours a day I committed to years ago. The hours that I spent many months and years of prehab, rehab, lifting, stretching, getting treatment. All the things. All the resources, using them. The belief that HOKA and NAZ Elite had in me and continue to have in me. That matters. Because running is what shapes my life and gives me purpose. That’s something to hold on to. I’ve met the most amazing people in running. I’ve met my husband. I’ve gotten through my mom’s breast cancer and my father’s death through running.
I digress. As usual. Because my thoughts are all over the place. My voice doesn’t seem needed at times and yet it’s crucial at other times. Is my blog a waste or meaningful? Some weeks I sit down and it flows. The inspiration is pouring out of me. Other days I can’t find the right words. EVER. Yet I committed to this. To story telling. Whenever and whatever that may be.
In this moment, when I sat down to write I’m content and quite honestly very filled with purpose. I’m making the most of heath and opportunity. And also I’m feeling guilty about it. Guilty because I have friends who are injured and would give anything to run. I have friends having babies and friends trying their hardest to get pregnant. Friends working multiple jobs to get by and friends unsure if their running contract will be renewed in 2021. So how do you exist in all the goodness of your life knowing what others don’t have or the hardships they are facing? I was fortunate to have a talk with a friend a few weeks ago. A new friend. A friend who has changed my perspective, opened my eyes, and whom I have learned so much from in just a few shorts months. The friend told me to hold space. Hold space for both. For your joys, success, accomplishments, things that light up your life. For the struggle of others, empathy for others, and taking action when you are called upon to. Hold space for both truths in your life. Don’t apologize or feel guilt for your happiness, your work ethic, your ability to move the needle in whatever capacity you can. People need people. In every space. Your success need not come from the failure of another. So if you’re shying away from sharing your new book, your goal for 2021, your new house project, writing, blogging, launching a new business, don’t. We still need inspiration. We still need humor. We still need motivation. I wanna know how my fellow professional runners are training. And my fellow athletes using their platforms for good and change. And watch stories of bravery. I wanna hear from moms who are getting their ass kicked by their kids or criticizing their post partum stomachs and losing confidence. I wanna hear from my friend who just wants to get pregnant but can’t. I wanna share in the joy and the pain. Hold space for it all.
And even as I press post for this blog, the lump in my throat is always there. Some will read my words and think “this woman is way off the mark, her blogs are empty.” Some may read it and find a little light or fire they needed. And for those who read it and does ignite something in them, that’s reason enough to keeping hitting POST.
Dream Big
Steph Bruce
