You Can Do Hard Things
I've been thinking a lot this week about why we do hard things, why I do hard things, and how you can do hard things, too.
Over this past week so many of you have told me things like:
"You are so much stronger than me.""I could never do that.""You must be superhuman."
But, I'm not. And neither are you. And, here's the bonus: we don't have to be.
All you have to be is you.
You can do hard things.
Yes, I ran those last 22 miles on a sprained ankle. But I also am such a raging introvert that I'm paralyzed when the phone rings, even when it's a call from a friend.
Yes, I ran two marathons in less than a month, but I am so conflict averse that I vomit when I have to confront someone who has actually, deliberately caused me harm.
Yes, I ran my fastest marathon ever at the age of 50, with that sprain, with that marathon less than month earlier, but I am such a giant bag of insecurities that I perceive even the slightest slight as identity-crushing rejection.
I can't do all the hard things. I can just do that one hard thing.
Comparison is the root of misery, as they say.
The fact that you can't do the one hard thing I can -- or maybe you can, you don't know until you try -- doesn't take anything away from all the hard things that you can do that I can't.
Just know that I'm sitting here -- yes, with my ankle elevated -- marveling with awe at all the things you do.
Just because it's like breathing to you doesn't make it any less remarkable to me. Own that shit. Bathe in its glow. Role model it for others. Remember that you are a boss.
You can do hard things.
Because you already do.
