Does this look like a woman having a midlife crisis?
To some, it must. This is me, happy after completing a run. I am actually very happy in this photo. But I'll admit, if you turn your head the right way and squint, I do look a little, well, crisis-ish.
Maybe this is the look I had today when I was at Target, buying goggles and hand weights for cross training and strengthening. A woman was in the hand weights aisle with me. As I moved from the weights-with-a-strap to the weights-without-a-strap, she said, "Oh no. You definitely want the strap." She proceeded to pick up the five-pound weight and demonstrate how to use it with the strap. Bicep. Tricep. Rhombus. Thinking she must know something I need to learn, I ask her about what weight to get. The conversation goes like this:
Me: What weight is best for tone but not bulk?
Strap Woman: What are you using them for?
Me: I'm training for a half marathon, and it's for strengthening for that.
Strap Woman: You're running a half marathon?
Me (proudly): Yes. And if it goes well, I may run a full marathon for my 40th.
Strap Woman (smugly): I see. Midlife crisis.
What? Is she allowed to say that to me? For real?
But she makes me think (dammit). AM I having a midlife crisis? What does that even mean? I start to doubt why I want to do this running thing. I hate that she's put this idea into my head.
But, this feeling only lasts for a small while. This woman asked me to consider if I was having a midlife crisis. My reflection on that question has resulted in even deeper conviction about why I am doing this.
Wikipedia defines a midlife crisis as "a period of dramatic self-doubt felt by some individuals in the 'middle years' of life." In this journey I have begun, there is no self-doubt at all. I mean, I have some doubts about whether or not I will actually run a marathon. But the marathon is the destination. The journey to that marathon has started with a confidence and assuredness I could not have had in any of my previous thirty-eight years. Better yet, I move forward with conviction. I am convinced that I can learn to love life in its glory and in its pain. I am convinced that living life in each and every moment, fully present, is how we learn to love life. And I love that running can give me the metaphor to live out this conviction.
Maybe this is the look I had today when I was at Target, buying goggles and hand weights for cross training and strengthening. A woman was in the hand weights aisle with me. As I moved from the weights-with-a-strap to the weights-without-a-strap, she said, "Oh no. You definitely want the strap." She proceeded to pick up the five-pound weight and demonstrate how to use it with the strap. Bicep. Tricep. Rhombus. Thinking she must know something I need to learn, I ask her about what weight to get. The conversation goes like this:
Me: What weight is best for tone but not bulk?
Strap Woman: What are you using them for?
Me: I'm training for a half marathon, and it's for strengthening for that.
Strap Woman: You're running a half marathon?
Me (proudly): Yes. And if it goes well, I may run a full marathon for my 40th.
Strap Woman (smugly): I see. Midlife crisis.
What? Is she allowed to say that to me? For real?
But she makes me think (dammit). AM I having a midlife crisis? What does that even mean? I start to doubt why I want to do this running thing. I hate that she's put this idea into my head.
But, this feeling only lasts for a small while. This woman asked me to consider if I was having a midlife crisis. My reflection on that question has resulted in even deeper conviction about why I am doing this.
Wikipedia defines a midlife crisis as "a period of dramatic self-doubt felt by some individuals in the 'middle years' of life." In this journey I have begun, there is no self-doubt at all. I mean, I have some doubts about whether or not I will actually run a marathon. But the marathon is the destination. The journey to that marathon has started with a confidence and assuredness I could not have had in any of my previous thirty-eight years. Better yet, I move forward with conviction. I am convinced that I can learn to love life in its glory and in its pain. I am convinced that living life in each and every moment, fully present, is how we learn to love life. And I love that running can give me the metaphor to live out this conviction.
So, to the Strap Woman, I say thank you for creating the opportunity for a bit of self-reflection.
I mean, c'mon. Does this look a woman in crisis?
