Mantras

When I ran the half-marathon last year, I read a lot on strategies and training plans to run long distances. Most sources said you should pick some "power words" or a "motivational phrase" to keep you going when things got rough. When your mind went to that negative place of wanting to quit and give up, you said your motivational phrase to help refocus you and get you back on track. And it kind of worked. I think it might work better for people who don't have constant conversations with themselves.
My motivational phrase was "You can do it".
At mile 3, I said,"You can do it" and I smiled smugly, believing I could.
At mile 5, I said, "You can do it" and I cocked my head and shook it slightly, "I'm not so sure, it's still a long way to go." "You can do it" I said sternly to shut myself up.
By mile 8, I was having full on discussions with myself :
"You can do it."
"No, I can't. It's another--lets see, 8,9,10, 11, 12, 13--(you can't expect me to do math and run)--5 miles or so. I'll never make it."
"Yes, you can. You ran 13 miles in your training. You were fine. You didn't die."
"Yea, I got lucky. I'm pretty sure I'll die now."
"No. You got this. Just keep moving."
"Easy for you to say. You're just my brain. Lungs and legs, on the other hand, have a different opinion."
And so on, until, wow, look I made it to mile 9.
By mile 10, the argument had devolved to:
"You can do it."
"No, I can't."
"You can do it."
"No, I can't."
By mile 12, I could sense the end. I thought maybe I would make it after all. But if there was supposed to be a surge of energy that came with that knowledge, I didn't feel it. But I gave up aruguing with myself. I just repeated the mantra "You. Can. Do. It." dragging each word out with each ragged breath. I think by the time 13 miles came around and I saw the finish line at the bottom of the hill, I had just forgotten how to stop. But I was still pretty elated when I crossed the line, and I could stop. I was dissappointed that I hadn't run as fast as I wanted, and that it had seemed so hard despite all my training. But I couldn't help feeling proud that I had at least run the entire way.

Just like I know there are millions of people who have run a half-marathon, and tons who have run an entire marathon, I know there a lot of people who are dealing with stuff right now, a lot of them dealing with stuff harder than what I have to deal with. But still, this is hard.
It is hard being away from Brian for so long. I miss his reassurance, his optimisim, and his practicality. I miss his shoulders--to lay on, to cry on, to lean on.
It is hard to be everything for the kids. To be their taxi, their scheduler, their advocate, their teacher, their friend. Especially when there seems to be too little of me.
It is hard to leave this place. To leave friends, to leave places, to leave the comfort of knowing what is for the uncertainty of what could be.
It is hard not worry. About whether the house will sell, what should we do to sell the house, what should I get ready for the movers, how do I transfer the kids smoothly, how do I comfort them, etc. etc.
It can almost be overwhelming sometimes and I want to just quit. It's too hard. But I find myself repeating my mantra for this move. It's not something I picked, necessarily, it just came to me one day and I repeat it whenever I feel burdened down with all I have to do, all my worries, all my guilt--"Faith is better than Fear."
There is no arguing with a statement like that. "Faith is better than Fear".
So I will have faith that everything will work out for the best. I will have faith that North Carolina will be a good place for us. I will have faith that our family will be stronger and better. And I will have faith that I can do this. I may not do it the best way, or the way I wanted to, but I have faith that I can keep moving.
Faith is better than Fear.
Faith is better than Fear.