Climax

It’s been an emotional week. The 20 mile run week was a climax of training. I’ve heard from seasoned marathoners that it’s harder than the marathon itself. While I would have argued that I had no desire to complete another 6.2 after going 20, I think there is a point. What’s an extra six miles when there are crowds, and snacks and bands playing? As one friend said today “When you get done with the marathon people give you stuff: medals, mylar blankets, a huge food spread. When you get done with 20 miles you get home and get a shower!”

I am happy to have reached that point. The hardest part of training. The climax.

Climaxes, however, are not all good news. In literature a climax is a decisive moment that is of maximum intensity or is a major turning point in a plot. Intensity and turning points are bound to bring some disappointment.

I had two conversations with people last week that surprised me. Friends, who were interested, but sort of on the periphery of all of this training, offered me the most sincere words of support. I felt those two friends cheering me on, rooting for me. More than the “go for its” though, were the sentiments of recognition they expressed that this journey is about far more than the running, and through it I have grown. They were not only cheering for me to finish the race, but to keep becoming more myself though it. Between the lines they communicated, “we’ve been with you on this journey and we’ll stay with you through the end, wherever it takes you.”

I suppose any turning point of note is not without conflict. Especially when it involves a character’s growth and transformation. I had a friend attack me today, and blame much of the discord in our relationship on me running a marathon. After some time to sit and sift through the accusations, the angry words, and my own hurt, I remembered the hawk. A bird with a vision that is often misunderstood because it is a bird of prey.

It is a painful thing to learn that people who love you may stop if you change. That you might be misunderstood by your friends and even attacked when you embark on a journey to, as I have said before, fulfill your soul’s purpose. That is the risk. Anytime we choose to obey the quiet whispers of our souls, and follow where those whispers lead us, we are going to be misunderstood. There are going to be people who don’t get it, who don’t support it, who are threatened by it, and who attack it, and who those people are might come as a surprise.

A climax brings a whole mess of emotions. Maximum intensity and major turning points. Big fights with some, steadfast love and support from others, and trying to make sense of the mess. The hardest part of training has little to do with the miles. It is finding the strength to withstand the climax. It’s finding acceptance in the losses and gratitude for all of the gains. It’s sorting through the change, letting go of who you were and becoming who you are. It’s trusting and living in your own truth on the days when there are no medals, no food and no mylar blankets at the finish.