My Latest Lesson in Not Resisting Change and Facing Fear

A recurring theme of my writing on this blog is about understanding our fears and learning to embrace the changes that life throws at us. And when I say “our” and “us,” I often mean me! 

In all seriousness, one of the reasons why I love coaching (and writing about coaching and coaching-adjacent themes) is because I see a lot of myself in my clients, including things like our fears and life’s inevitable changes.

My latest lessons on these fronts came in the form of a running injury that I first noticed last September. I started running seriously and regularly in 2010, but I really dug into it at the start of the pandemic four years ago. Before 2020, my exercise time was 50% running, 25% weights at the gym, and 25% studio yoga. With gyms and studios closing at the start of the pandemic, that time quickly became nearly all running. 

The bike trail snaking through the Provincetown Dunes. The Atlantic Ocean is on the horizon. January 2022.

And I loved it! I live in Provincetown, MA, which I believe is one of the most beautiful places on the planet. To have the time and ability to run here all year long is a joy (yes, even when there’s a 40mph wind off the Atlantic in January, or a pack of coyotes blocking the trail in the dunes in the off-season–joy sometimes has a cost!). 

But after three-and-a-half years of four to six runs per week–and many days when I did back-to-back runs–my legs had had enough. Well, part of my right hamstring had had enough. 

I knew something was wrong as I was driving to Boston for a concert last September. I suddenly had a shooting pain in my right hip, and I knew it wasn’t just the usual soreness from the 8-miler I did earlier that day. But, of course, I did my best to ignore it for two more months. In that time, my pace got slower and slower, and I soon realized my right hamstring was tight and achy. 

I should have taken a break from running starting the day when I first had pain, but I didn’t. Why? Because I was afraid of what was happening and resisting reality. 

Part of my identity was being a runner, and I didn’t want to let that go. I told myself that going back to the gym or hopping on the Peloton wasn’t going to be good enough for me–certainly not as enjoyable as running in the fresh air. 

More importantly, running was somewhat meditative for me–it’s where I calmed my brain and got focused. I could, sometimes, draft work emails or memos, poems, and the like in my head while running, and just write them out once I got home. Running also helped me connect with nature here in Provincetown, where the terrain changes day-by-day throughout the year if you look closely enough. As a photographer, I got great ideas for shoots during my runs. One or both of my partners joined me for many of my runs, so it was time for us to be together, too.

Really, running was where I was able to think and not just have thoughts. Running helped me learn that there is a difference between those two things. 

It was one of the times in my day when I was most present. 

However, by mid-November, I could barely run. My right leg just wouldn’t move at a pace that was more than a brisk walk. I could feel a mild panic creep in when I thought of going to the doctor and admitting that my running journey was coming to at least a temporary end.

But I did go to the doctor, begrudgingly. He thought I probably injured my hamstring first–simply from overuse–and then my hip started compensating for that injury and in turn became injured. He referred me for physical therapy, which I started in late January. 

I was somewhat skeptical that it would work–my insurance wouldn’t pay for any imaging until after I did PT–but it did. By late February my leg was feeling almost back to normal.

And between mid-November when I stopped running and then? I got a membership at one of

Me finishing a race in Provincetown. June 2022.

the gyms here in town, and I started using our damn Peloton. Much to my surprise, I enjoyed both. The gym got me out of the house and allowed me to establish a new routine that is helping me feel stronger. The Peloton proved to me that my strong running cardio did not translate to all forms of aerobic exercise–in other words, the bike kicked my ass! But I could see and feel myself getting stronger with each ride. 

And, of course, I learned–again!–how change can be good for us, once we stop resisting it. Had I kept running I could have seriously injured myself, and I wouldn’t have started these new routines, which I really enjoy.

I’m back to running a couple of times each week–at a slower pace than I was previously–and I’ve nearly completed my physical therapy. I will continue the PT exercises on my own, and I hope that they keep working. If they don’t, I will adjust as needed–reminding myself that the way forward will more or less work out, no matter what.