I’ve been contemplating my situation a lot lately… mostly while laying in bed, waiting to fall asleep. I am starting to think that I am afraid of pain. I seem to do everything I can to avoid pain, whether it be a physical pain (my ankles and shins…), an emotional pain (closed relationships…), or a mental pain (memories that always seem to keep me down…). All day long, I think about running, about how nice it looks outside, and how I want to go home and run… but then I get out of work, drive home, and plop on the couch. I look at my running shoes and think about how I should go run, but I don’t do it. The last time I ran, it hurt. Pain is not fun. Therefore, running must not be fun. But I want it to be, so badly.
Perhaps I am not as afraid of pain as I am of success. If I look at my life in a much more broad sense I can see other patterns… degrees obtained, but no licensure; hobbies studied, but never performed past the classroom; opportunities with some risk but with great potential are turned down. I could go on… I think I am afraid of succeeding at something. I already know I hate the spotlight, which is why I always take the pictures, but am rarely in them. I don’t like to be the focus… and success makes you so, whether intentionally or not. Maybe my lack of running stems from some deep-seated psychological issue, and I will never equate to anything more than a basket-case runner-wannabe.
Or perhaps I am just lazy…
