The Inner Teenager and the Grown Woman Fist Fight on the Road to Albuquerque

Or... why you should make a plan and stick to it
Or... why you should take your responsibilities more seriously
Or...learning the hard way
The original title is a little shout out to one of my favorite authors. Get out there and read his books!

For months, I have been getting up close and personally acquainted with my inner teenager. You know her, she's the petulant, sullen one who can very occasionally be a lot of fun but usually she is just lazy and obstinate. She never wants to do anything that 1) she is supposed to do or 2) is irrefutably good for her. She is the one who will sit and watch tv for hours rather than get up to change the channel, for example. More likely, in my case, she refuses to get up and take her contacts out even though her eyes hurt or waits until the sun is about to set before starting the 5 mile run knowing the cemetery will lock the gates at sundown.

You recognize her, surely. Well she/I knew all through my training that I should be stretching more, cross-training in general. But, clearly, battling the inner teenager just to get all my miles in left me without the strength and/or determination to insist on the stretching or the yoga. I would resolve daily to stretch, go to a yoga class or at least use the tape at home and then not follow through.

It is typical of the contradiction. I know what I need to do. I have the motivation and determination for over 16 weeks to get out there and get my runs in, but then I refuse to stretch!? The next day, aches and pains in tow, I resolve again to do what I know I must do, and then I don't.

There's nothing really different about knowing I need to get work done by a particular date, turning down social engagements to do the work, and then obstinately not doing any of it. In the middle of the night, I will get up to do the work I had set aside THE ENTIRE DAY to do. Or not. Then facing the ultimate deadline, pulling an all-nighter. If that isn't the inner-teenager planting IEDs, then I don't know what is.

I hear people complimenting me for my steadfastness on the training or the recent dedication to weight loss, and I have an internal voice ready to call up the teenager's failings.

There are so many incarnations of the duality, that the examples fill my mind, taking over this post. The breadth of this problem is not the issue, really. It's bigger than the ugly realities I face or the mistakes I have to correct as a result. The important piece, of course, is what to do about it. Perhaps that is why it has taken 3 months to actually write this piece. It has been rolling around my head for a while, and was drafted several times.

I have to find a way to overcome the struggle. I know the inner-teenager is trying to tell me something and like any adult, it is my job to try to hear the real message and help resolve the issue. I wonder if this is the final throes of learning how to name what I want and claiming the gifts of the universe. When I act in a self-destructive manner, often it is about withholding success -- like putting a foot out to trip myself. It's pre-punishment, but it's also about making me unworthy for what I want. I have dared to name what I want, but I haven't dared to believe I can actually have it.

I want to learn from the latest escapade. As I said I trained very hard for this race. I made all my runs but one 4-miler up until the 14th week of training; in weeks 12-14 of training, I started seriously limiting my caloric intake in order to lose the weight I had been promising myself to lose since December. All of my motivation, strength and determination were running at full capacity. Any number of outside observers might report I was the most dedicated person they've met. Meanwhile, I knew I was not stretching enough -- not making time for the yoga either at the gym or at home. The doctor would tell you it was only a matter of time and that the shoe episode was a fluke. And he is no doubt accurate in his assessment and diagnosis.

However, the fact is my calves were stretched to the limit and the pain radiated up only one foot and it happened after I wore the new shoes meant for the other foot's slight movement. Two weeks from the race and running one step shoots pain all the way up to my right hip. I spring into action -- doctor's appointment, specialist appointment, concocting back up plans and trying to keep the disapproving voices at bay. They manifested as a tremendous urge to eat man donuts and a deep sadness and disappointment. Using all my resources, I resisted the donuts and faced the sadness and disappointment head on.

Ultimately it took all my physical and emotional energy to determine not to fall to the food/comfort impulse or to give into the voices. I determined to do whatever I could to heal and to be pleased with myself even if I could only participate in the 10K trail walk. Luckily, those emotions came before actually visiting the specialist and his finger wagging: "some people think they can just start running and not stretch." Inside my head, I answered: "I don't like you either." I know all about finger wagging and it never works as a real impetus for doing a better job. I put all my resources to work devising the plan: doctor's orders, extra stretching, a massage and acupuncture. It might work; it might not work, but it couldn't hurt.

I am powerful when I put my mind to it. There's no denying it. The question is, why don't I make better use of that power? I continued my stretching and careful running. The tightness remained, but I determined to start the race and walk whenever the shooting pain arrived, not worrying about bettering my time.

I am happy to report that I had no foot pain. I flew through the first three miles before I even started noticing the miles. I still had a spring in my step at mile 8, singing along to the songs in my ear. Slow, but steady the only walking came between water tables and trash bins. It wasn't my best time, but it was a very acceptable 13 min miles and NO PAIN and a tremendous feeling of accomplishment.

The inner-teenager would have said I don't like running anyway, let's just walk and enjoy the trip!

She didn't even try to get her way. It turns out the adult can win as long as I am willing to put my foot down and actually be the adult!