When I was three years old I decided I wanted to go for a walk. My mom was too pregnant with my sissy to chase me and I was too fast. Screen doors were no match for my three year old self. I just decided. I didn’t ask. I just decided. I found my legs.
I was fearless and brave. I was fast. Running to me was as easy as breathing. I didn’t think about it. I just decided.
I liked I was fast. I liked that I was faster than most everyone I came up against. But with most things in life, you can’t be number one with out a crowd trying to knock you down a peg or two.
Because I was fast, I got made fun of for everything from being a girl who could run faster than the fastest boy in my grade to how I wore my shorts. Yes. How I wore my shorts. Weird what 11 year old me remembers.
As I my speed improved, the doubts of my talent began to creep in. I could run, that was my super hero talent, but did I deserve to win.
I had to decide. Every single race. I had to decide. Did I deserve this win? And you know what, every single time I ran I didn’t think about it. I didn’t ask if I deserved it, I just decided.
Except when I didn’t.
Except when I would shrink back.
I wouldn’t run my race. I’d be running someone else’s race. I would be thinking too hard about how I should be. Not how I am. My legs are longer. My gate is longer. It’s not short. It doesn’t look like one of those cartoon animals legs when I ran. But some how I was just as fast. Some how I was faster.
That’s the moment. That’s the moment I realized I needed to decide.
I had to decide to not shrink back.
I had to decide to run my own race. And once I decided that I was faster. Once I decided that I was the only one who could beat back all the “excepts” in my head. I was the only who could decide and the excepts got quieter and smaller.
Decide. Decide you are faster than the excepts in your head.
Everything in life is going to try to hold you back. No one is going to want to see you win as badly as you need to see you win. You need to know that from the moment that starter pistol goes off. The wind is going to be blowing against you some days. Your shoes are going to rub and give you blisters. Some races will make you cry or pee your pants.
But man, when it all comes together. When that sun is shining and the wind is at your back, and when your shoes fit just right it all comes back. You decide.
You decide that every single day is going to be your best race day. Even on the days you cry.
Because this is your dream. This your life. This is your race and only you can run it.