Exploring a Race (or any other victory) Through Storytelling

The 2023 Leadville 100

Runners train for and run races. Then, we can become storytellers.

Running the Leadville 100 was not just a bucket list item for me. It wasn't just a test of my fitness or an exploration. It wasn't just a trip to a start and finish line, a chance to try out an endurance footrace for the glamour of it.

Running this race was an opportunity to get to know myself more deeply. To embody a part of my story that I needed to feel.

It was a summer of independence that bled into the completion of a huge goal that then vibrated outward into how I carried myself through the world. I was different at that finish line. I was lighter, brighter, better for it. And I realized that fully only after writing thoughtfully about it.

How often do we allow ourselves to marinate in a life event? How often do we slow down to write, then edit, then rewrite our experiences that led up to that point -- and therefore open new doors to what could be?

When I described my book to a colleague (who happens to be a licensed therapist, too) she remarked: "It sounds like you brought shame to the light so that it could die."

Yeah. That's exactly what I did.

I used the training, race experience, and post-race come down as an avenue to dismantle SO MUCH SHAME around what I learned about my body. To dismantle what Catholicism and patriarchy and men and even running had taught me over three decades.

And from that breaking down, editing, and rewriting -- I rose up. My spine straightened. I glowed.

The act of storytelling gave me full on permission to write and then rewrite, edit again and again what I thought, felt, and knew. I got to investigate my innermost feelings and slide those up against memory, facts, and relationships. And I got to reshape my belief system in the process.

(Oh, the catharsis!)

And here. on the other side of it, with a book almost ready to go off into print on Kindle and Amazon, I have placed my story of triumph against the million of stories of shame in my body.

And I let the story of triumph win.

Crafting a story through shame toward triumph can inspire others to do the same. I think it shows readers that they too can take an empowering event and size it up against all the mental chatter and emotional blockages that once stood so powerfully in the way. We may be at the start line by way of a graduation, a job promotion, a marathon or 100 miler, a business built, or a family begun. When we are there, we can do the only thing we need to do: we can begin. We can examine the inner noise and realize -- REALLY TRULY REALIZE-- that even though the noise is there, we can still begin; even though the fear warbles, we can still sing out loud; even though emotions throb, we can still stand up and be great.

On the other side, I can say: It's worth it. It's worth it to turn a race into a story of our life. I took my journaling and my photos, my memories and my emotions, my therapy sessions and my highest self meditations, and I wrote my story.

I brought my shame to light. And in its place is a story of triumph.

Now I can let it so much of it go. I can let my story simply become a part of someone else's journey. I can release my chokehold on the past. I can look more clearly to the future.

My suggestion: Turn your starting line into a story. Write and rewrite. Edit and edit again. Bring shame to light and focus on your triumph.

It just might change you for the better.