Identity is a word that gets thrown around a lot these days: gender identity, sexual identity, identity with a particular group. If something happens to disrupt our identity, we may feel lost and helpless for a while. For the past few years, I have been dealing with health problems that have made it difficult for me to continue running. No, nothing serious and nothing compared to what some people deal with on a daily basis; but serious enough for me that it felt devastating! I first started running races at the age of 12, have run several half marathons and even one full marathon, and was just about to celebrate 30 years as a runner when, suddenly and inexplicably, I could not take a few steps without gagging. After several tests, trials and errors, I have finally figured out which medicine will control my symptoms best. But I still cannot run. And yes, it's very hard for me to admit that! Running was such a big part of who I was for so many years that I never knew before this point how much I depended on it. Over the years my mentality about running changed; instead of trying to run a certain number of times each week and set personal bests, I was perfectly content just to run whenever and wherever I could fit it in and came to enjoy the serenity of my solo runs more than the pressure of competition. But to go from using my runs to cope with the stresses of my hectic lifestyle to not being able to run at all made me realize how much I had previously taken for granted. I considered myself a runner; that was part of my identity. So to have that part of me suddenly taken away was like losing a part of myself.
As I struggle to accept my new reality, I have made a few realizations about my identity. First, my identity is formed by all of me. Running was just one piece of an intricate puzzle of who I am; it wasn't all of me. My husband didn't marry me because I was a runner; in fact, that probably made no difference to him at all! He married me because of all the unique details that make me who I am. Our identity should be shaped more by the kind of person we are on the inside than by a certain activity or something we do at one point in our life. The same characteristics that helped me as a runner are still there even when I'm not running: drive, motivation, determination, to name a few. Likewise, the lessons I learned from running will still help me when my body starts to decay: persevering through hardship and pushing myself to meet my goals, for example.
People may dress a particular way to achieve a certain identity. A teen who wears all black wants to be different from his peers. A CEO who wears only suits and ties wants others to respect his authority. But your looks are only one small part of your identity, as well. The look we achieve and the social status that goes along with it are material factors that will fade with time. Those who remember that their citizenship is in heaven, however, will focus more on the spiritual aspects of their identity than the material ones.
If our identity is in Christ, others should see the fruits of the Spirit in all that we do. Which is more important, to win an award for something we did one time, or to feel at peace anytime those around us win something because we can truly feel happy for them? To be accepted into a certain group, or to go out of our way to show kindness to others? To win an argument with a loved one, or to refrain from arguing by demonstrating love and patience? To receive texts and visits when we're experiencing a difficulty, or to gently reach out to others who may be silently struggling when they least expect it? In my case, is it more important for someone to see me as a runner, or to see me as a Christian? If we follow God with our whole heart, He will put the right people and events in our lives to bring us back when we start to lose our way.
Another lesson I have learned is that identity doesn't come from what others do or think. If you do something just because others are doing it but you don't actually enjoy it, it may bring about more negative consequences than positive ones. Some parents spend hundreds of dollars a year on an activity for their children, whether it be sports, theater, or art, without first asking their children if this is something they really want! Sometimes they even push the activity on them because it's something they (the parents) enjoy or something other families are doing. Yet, how many of these kids actually continue that activity in the future? If you truly enjoy something, on the other hand, you're more likely to stick with it your whole life.
Lastly, I have learned to shift my perspective. There was a time that running became somewhat unhealthy for me. Yes, I was burning calories like crazy, but at what cost? Sometimes I stumbled through my day like a zombie because I was so determined to fit in a run that I woke up early and didn't get enough sleep. Sometimes I obsessed over my body image and felt pressure to keep exercising no matter what. Now I've learned that it's okay if I don't always exercise. Healthy eating and a good night's sleep are just as important to my well-being. After years of running on my own, now I'm focused on exercising more with my family. And, I'm able to spend more time with them because I'm not training for races like I used to. Instead of only seeing the dark spots in the tunnel that cause you to feel discouraged, always look for the specks of light at the end that can turn a bad mood into something more positive.
I truly hope and pray that one day I can start running again. But until that day comes, I'll keep striving to accept that I am a walker instead of a runner. My identity hasn't changed, only my circumstances. I may be slower and less active, but I am still the same hard-working, kind-hearted mother, wife, teacher and first and foremost Christian that I have always been.
