I'd had it!
I was spiraling down, down, down. You know, the feeling like you're just barely making it, getting through in survival mode. Living a reactive life instead of being proactive. Waiting for things to happen instead of making them happen. That's how I felt physically, spiritually, emotionally...basically, my whole-self. I was suffering from a severe case of lacking self-discipline. My main issue: pushing myself to the point of exhaustion, because I would NOT allow myself the rest I desperately needed all because of reading, reading, reading. I'm one of those need-nine-hours-of-sleep people. As a result, everything else was effected. Too tired to run, too tired to study my scriptures, really study, too tired to take care of my family well, to nurture my marriage, to pray meaningfully and consistently, and the list goes on...
I am a prideful person. I don't want help. I want to think I'm strong enough, self-disciplined enough to change my behavior when I make poor choices. I was wrong. This time, it took someone else. As much as I fought it, I needed someone else to get me out of my rut.
I have a friend. We go to church together. She's the type you look at and are instantly intimidated by because her prescence is felt. Do you know what I mean? She is a strong women, beautiful, tempered because she's been through "the fire," so to speak. Also, she's a paramedic. Tough. Seriously. Anyway, she asked me one day if I wanted to start running with her. Politely, I said I'd think about it. What I was really thinking was yeah right, you'd run me into the ground. I would have no pride left over. I would slow you down. You'd think I'm weak, a wuss, etc. etc. Basically, I was afraid of her. Afraid. She was a threat. I loved her...but, she was a threat, nonetheless. I was hoping that my not getting back to her would just let the idea float away...
I wasn't that lucky.
She caught me at the library. It's so funny to admit that I'd hoped she wouldn't see me, because I didn't want to be cornered, I didn't want to commit, I didn't want to DIE (that's how I felt). Well, she found me. She asked. I confessed. I honestly told her how afraid I was of her, of her ultimate, strong woman-ness. I told her that in all of my years since having kids, I REFUSED to get up early to run. My sleep was too precious to sacrifice for early morning excercise. I told myself I was a night-exerciser, a day-exerciser, but never before the sun came up, never. I told her I hated exercising with other people. I go solo. I told her I was afraid she'd think I was weak...I told her everything. She smiled, even laughed at me. I felt this huge relief that I actually told her everything I was feeling. She's one of those people who demand honesty because she's so real, so candid. I finally said yes. I did. I told her it might kill me, but I would get up at the crack of dawn to run with her. AHHHH. That's all I was thinking after she left. I just gave away all of my freedom.
Well, here's my testimonial. Heber J. Grant once said, "That which we persist in doing becomes easier for us to do; not that the nature of the thing itself is changed, but that our power to do is increased." I did it. I set my alarm for 5:10am. I don't think I've ever purposely woken that early since early-morning seminary, back in the high school days. It was hard. Hard. But, I did it. I've been doing it, for three weeks now. I missed a day and felt horrible, sluggish. I needed to run, I needed that early morning boost, I needed my pre-dawn visit with my friend. My life has done a 180. I'm back. The "me" I'm supposed to be is back because my friend didn't give up on me. Because she was patient, listened to me whine, and kept going. Everything else I was struggling with took care of itself, all because she helped me discipline myself. I want to be that "someone" for someone else one day.
p.s. Running up the bleachers at our college stadium is not fun. Not at all. Can you believe she talked me into that? If you could see me doing it, you would laugh...and I'd be okay with that.