Depriving yourself of things because you're scared of the unknown? Stop that. Stop that right now.

On Tuesday mornings I go to track practice. That’s a funny sentence within itself, especially when I think back to high school. In 2003 I didn’t make the junior varsity volleyball team because I couldn’t run a mile in under 10:00. In high school, I would never in a million years think that I, Emily D. Abbate, would do track. I was in the musical — despite barely being able to carry a tune. I was in a Jewish youth group. Heck, I was regional president of said youth group. 

So, yeah.
Back to the present.

I’ll start with this: I was really, really hesitant to join my local track club. There was lingering doubt, wondering if I was “good enough” to run with other people. Worried I’d be too slow. I was insecure about fitting in. But with some encouragement from friends, I paid my dues (literally) and did the damn thing.

Things got off to a rough start. I joined last winter. By the time it was warm enough outside to assemble for an actual practice, COVID was starting to kick in here in New York.

These days, we’re slowly getting back into the swing of things — in a safe, socially-distanced, masked way. The doubts and worries I had at the end of 2019, they feel like a thing of the past. 

These days, I feel strong. 
These days, I feel excited.
Tuesdays are now my favorite day of the week. 

I’ve got a whole routine. It’s the only day I set an alarm for. I’m up at 5:40. I write in my journal. I sip a small cup of Nespresso. I head downtown before the sun comes up, guided by the small lights on my bike — which also brings me joy. It takes me about 25 minutes to get from Point A to Point B. There, I’m greeted with friendly faces. We all show up with the same bit of slight lingering uncertainty, wondering if we’re ready for what’s about to go down. Practice then goes for about an hour. I run with the same small 4-to-6-person pace group week after week. I almost always hug the front left corner of our small, socially-distanced squad, running the innermost lane. We proceed to push each other. It feels good.

At the track, the other stuff doesn’t matter. 
Actually, let me rephrase that.
Other things matter, but the track is your opportunity to focus on the run.
Let the other things go, for at least a bit.
Use whatever may be frustrating you to your advantage.
Throw yourself into the work.
And just be.

At the track, you show up and you give it what you’ve got in that moment. You try. You really really try. It’s pretty likely that you’ll let out a few expletives at one point or another as you gasp for air under your damp face covering.

Every single week, when it’s all said and done, I feel grateful for getting out of bed in the first place.

Weekly, I follow-up our early morning practice by going to one of my favorite spots for breakfast. I look forward to the subtle crunch of a homemade peanut butter banana cacao muffin accompanied by a warm coffee (it’s as decadent as it sounds). I sit there, watching the cars and passersby. I’ve gotten to know the other people who make this spot a part of their Tuesday routine. Oh, to be a “regular” somewhere again.

I was hanging out in my corner spot sipping java earlier this week, thinking about my new normal. It hit me, then; the fact that I almost didn’t join the track club at all. I wondered: How much would it suck, if I missed out on this experience? Granted, I wouldn’t really know what I was missing out on. But, now that I do …

... the community.
Endorphins. 
Camaraderie.
Confidence. 
An innate belief in myself that I can do hard things even when life, too, feels hard.
All because I was nervous that I wouldn’t be “enough.”
Letting the stories I was telling myself potentially stand in my way.
Your thoughts, as Kara Loewentheil said, create our feelings — not external circumstances.
We’re in charge of our thoughts.

Good stuff happens when you take back control from those self-doubting thoughts.
Tuesdays are a good thing.

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PROMPT: What is one self-limiting thought you’ve had this year that prevented you from taking action? Are you willing to let it go?