Sometimes when you’re on your long run, you’ll do anything to get through the miles and may start to think about things you would ordinarily try not to think about.
My “Long run” hasn’t actually happened yet this week, but my thoughts have travelled off into a far off place where I wondered if things can ever be too broken to be fixed (and if a long run would actually fix it!.)
Sometimes, you can try and use a quick fix such as sellotape, to piece together a broken plate for example, but over time the sellotape starts to get tired and worn and loses the one thing that was holding the pieces together…. Its stickiness. So you try something else. Perhaps a different brand of sellotape, maybe you double up on the sellotape hoping it will be just that bit stronger and longer lasting, but over time, that too loses its stickiness, and the plate falls apart again.
And when all else fails you turn to others, in the hope that they can help you hold the pieces of that plate together and guess what! It starts to work. Slowly you realise that you didn’t actually need that sellotape because the plate was now being held so closely, so tightly that everything begins to fuse back together. But not perfectly – now it becomes imperfectly perfectly.
But, just before it’s completely fused back together, some of the sharp shards that hadn’t been seen before, cut the fingers of the ones trying to help piece it back together. The cut is so surprising, so sharp and so deep, they drop it. Not because they wanted to, but because it hurt … and they let go … and there you are looking at a plate that looks like it will never be pieced together again, having cut the one trying to hold it all together.
So what to do? Throw it away? Keep applying the sellotape? Sweep up the pieces but just leave them there broken? And the one with the cut? Well, the cut will heal and fade but they’ll always remember how sharp that plate was and remain wary of picking that plate up again, if at all.
Now! what would happen if you were given a different option? Perhaps handed some glue instead of sellotape, knowing it wouldn’t be a quick fix, it would need to be applied and the plate would need to be put on a shelf to dry for a while but the end result would be that the plate is once more usable. It’s still a plate, it may be a little more fragile, will never be quite as strong or beautiful as before and if you look carefully enough, you may be able to see visible cracks, it may need to be handled with care for a time, but nevertheless, the plate is once more whole and more importantly, functional.
Doesn’t that sound like a better option?
I’ve realised that I’m never going to be a “good runner” a “fast runner” a “long distance runner” in fact, I’ve said it many a time and I will continue to say it, I will always be a plodder, but my plodding has now become the only glue that holds me together and if you’re feeling as though you’re that plate, apply the glue and while the glue dries, be patient. The things that make you different are the things that make you, you.
Until next time.