What Does Fitting In Really Mean?

Me being me in front of Tower Bridge in London

When I got to Paris I thought fitting in meant hiding the fact that I am an American. To me this meant speaking French at all times possible and limit the use of English as much as possible in public spaces. It meant changing the way I dressed in order to look Parisian and acting in ways that fall within acceptable limits of the Parisian culture. What I didn’t think about was how exhausting and draining this would be for me and I definitely didn’t think I could get hurt in the process.

It wasn’t until I returned from a trip to London that I realized I was really struggling internally. I felt more myself and at home during our four days in London than in the last two months because I had spent that time suppressing what makes me who I am. Not all of it was bad and the intentions were good, but I took it a little too far. London taught me to be proud of who I am even in France. It taught me that the French don’t actually hate Americans and I learned that when the French switch to English they don’t always see it as a burden but more as an opportunity to use this language they also know to meet someone else in their comfort. This isn’t always true but it is true a lot of times.

After some internal processing I no longer feel weird when I speak English anymore. I don’t keep it a secret. It is a gift, even if I don’t always like it. I still have changed the clothes I wear but some of that is for me too. I’m not afraid to wear my running clothes on the bus to meet my running group because I don’t need to be concerned with what strangers think of me. Plus it opens up encouraging conversations with cute old men who compliment my ability to get up on a Saturday morning and run. I won’t wear my running clothes all of the time but I’ll feel less guilty about wearing them. That’s the thing when you suppress who you are, you walk around with a lot of guilt and that isn’t healthy for anyone. So I’m leaving the guilt behind and taking with me my clothes, a new language and my old language. And I will continue to be open to this new culture that I live in but still be true to who I am.

Races Never Come Without Emotion

My 100% supportive mom and my after the race

Who would have thought that running could be emotional but I guess it makes sense. You spend 4 months planning for something that all comes down to a few hours. But even before that, you spend time thinking about and deciding if it is even something you want to sign up to do. For months you change what you eat, drink, wear and do for fun all for a few hours of time so of course it is going to be emotional. I just didn’t realize how much.

In the days leading up to the race my heart did butterflies whenever I thought of it. Afterwards, I cried every time I thought about the race but I didn’t know why. It was like this for four days. As I talked with roommates, my employer, friends and family I slowly started to realize what it was that I was feeling.

The first emotion that I was feeling was disappointment. I set two high goals for myself with this race, to raise $3250 for The Sheridan Story and to break 4 hours while running Grandma’s Marathon. I didn’t achieve either of these things. In my mind, I only raised $2450 and ran the race in 4:16:05. I was disappointed in myself. Not being one to set high expectations for myself, I was let down when I didn’t achieve these. I couldn’t see the whole picture.

The second emotion I was feeling was overwhelmed. In the midst of feeling disappointed I had the people closest to me telling me that they were proud of me. That’s an overwhelming feeling. Even as I write this I have tears in my eyes. Have you ever experienced this? A moment where you feel like you have failed yet in someone else’s eyes you have achieved something unfathomable for them? If you have, you know what I’m feeling. If you haven’t, it is incredibly overwhelming.

Many of the people in my life who are runners run marathons. Having run one, I knew that I could run and finish Grandma’s. I trained hard for it so I even knew that I could run faster than my time at Twin Cities Marathon and maybe even break 4 hours. These were achievable things to me. But not to my friends and family who were with me. My family and friends are fit and athletic people, but running a marathon isn’t something they truly desire to do or can do at this point in their lives. So to them, running a marathon is a big deal.

As for not raising my goal of support for The Sheridan Story, I got stuck in what wasn’t raised instead of what money was raised. Together, we raised $2450! That is a lot of money. And that is enough money to feed NINETEEN kids for A WHOLE YEAR! Do you understand what this means? I didn’t. This is 19 kids who won’t be hungry on the weekends. It also feeds 19 families. It takes away stress from 19 families. It takes away arguments from 19 families. And it creates a more loving and fulfilling family for 19 kids. This is changing lives! And I couldn’t see this. But now I can. And this is huge. And also overwhelming. So while I was disappointed, everyone around me was proud and they helped me to see the accomplishment of what we had done.

As I was talking with my friend Becca about the race, I also realized that I was overwhelmed in general by the number of times people told me they were proud of me. I don’t think I have ever had so many people say this and mean it. It led me to realize that we don’t often verbalize being proud of someone. In training and during the race I had an overwhelming number of people verbalize how proud of me they were. I had support like I never have had before in anything, let alone my running.

My friend Becca said it best.

“Since starting to run, I’ve realized how powerful the support of others is. there is something about verbally expressing support and pride that hits us deep inside. In those moments you know that someone is 100% for you. They are cheering for your success, and you can’t fail. You have people who believe in you and what you are about. They are relentless, and you are safe.”

This is what I was feeling and it is overwhelming, but in the most beautiful way. So while the race was physically challenging the emotional challenges were harder. Who would have thought that the emotions a marathon bring up could be more challenging than the actual marathon itself.