I was recently inspired to step outside of my comfort zone and the source of that inspiration came from none other than my 9 year old son. He is playing soccer this fall and normally my boy is less inclined to join team sports (he typically prefers to sit alone quietly while reading a book, just like his mom), but this year he actually asked his father and me to sign him up for soccer. I was surprised at this request; he has played team sports before and when he does it usually results in him saying, "I don't think I want to do that again next year". But he insisted he wanted to try soccer this fall, so we signed him up.
When I watch my son play soccer, I can see in his face that he is trying hard and that he is way outside of his comfort zone, and I am really proud of him for taking a risk and challenging himself in this way. And so began my own pursuit to challenge and push myself, just as my son is doing.
One of the reasons I love running is because it is a sport I can do by myself. I'm an introvert, so I often prefer to be by myself as a means of recharging and re-energizing. But admittedly I have also always been a little self-conscious about my athletic ability (or lack thereof), and therefore I tend to shy away from group sports. However, after seeing my 9 year old introverted, self-conscious son make an effort in group sports, I thought maybe I'd try something new. In fact, I tried two new things: 1) I joined a running group with some co-workers and 2) I participated in the November Project in Worcester, MA.
I decided to join a running group at work for two reasons: a) it would help hold me accountable as I am training for the full marathon I am running in January and b) it would help me get to know some of my colleagues in my new job. Socializing with strangers is always outside of my comfort zone, so joining a running group at work was definitely a challenge, but one I am glad I took on - when you train in a sport with other people, an organic camaraderie takes place and bonds you in a way that doesn't happen naturally when you are sitting in a cubicle inside the office. Our group ran some tough hills earlier this week and we all were high-fiving each other when we finished, laughing and talking about what was good and what was bad about our run.
In addition to socializing at work through sports and fitness, I decided to do the same outside of work. That's where the November Project comes in. You may be wondering what that is; I included a link to their website above if you want more information, but basically the November Project is a free grassroots fitness movement (originally founded in Boston) that has expanded to multiple cities across four time zones in North America. The people that meet for the November Project use the space around them to work out, and as I mentioned before, it costs nothing to join. In fact, the November Project's slogan is, "just show up".
In Worcester, the November Project "tribe members", as they are called, run up and down the stadium at the College of the Holy Cross every Wednesday morning just after sunrise. And if you are thinking, "How hard can it be to do that?", you clearly have never run up and down an entire stadium before. It's pretty freakin' hard. I can attest that it was one of the toughest workouts I have done since I took Barre last year. And I had to pay someone to kick my ass when I took Barre - the November Project ass-kicking was totally free, and totally awesome. But even though the workout was hard, anyone can join, all levels of ability are welcome and encouraged to participate. Members range from Olympian athletes to people who are just getting off the couch for the first time. Running up and down the stadium trains your body for endurance, and it also makes you realize how big a stadium really is. Ha, ha.
What makes the November Project most special, though, is the relationships between tribe members. There is hugging, laughing, and socializing that you won't see at your local gym. The members support one another and all they ask is that if you say you are going to show up, that you show up. Be accountable. But if you don't, you aren't yelled at or made to feel bad. The members will just say to you, "hey, we missed you" the next time they see you.
Joining the November Project for the first time was most definitely outside of my comfort zone. I am not used to socializing in this way and I felt intimidated at first by all of the "athletic-looking" people that surrounded me (side note: anyone in sneakers and running shorts looks "athletic" to me - except for me, of course). But everyone was very friendly and encouraging and I was told to basically just do my best, which is advice I give my children all the time, so for once I put away my insecurity and self-doubt and I gave it a shot. I am so glad I did, because I got the best workout of my life and it didn't cost me a penny. And I met some new people and made some friends.
Stepping outside of one's comfort zone can be downright scary. I personally prefer to be comfortable at all times. But not a whole lot of magic happens inside your comfort zone. Sure, you get stuff done, but you don't get to try anything new or test your limits. How else will you know what you're made of if you don't push yourself a little? When I stepped up to my new running partners at work and when I walked into that stadium with the November Project tribe at Holy Cross, I wanted to turn and run away. But then I remembered my 9 year old son running on the soccer field, pushing himself and trying hard at something new, and I went for it. I experienced firsthand the magic that happens outside of my comfort zone, and there's no looking back now.
Friday, September 16, 2016
Sunday, September 11, 2016
9/11, A Personal Reflection on Love and Resilience
Today, fifteen years following one of the greatest tragedies ever to take place on our nation's soil, Americans everywhere reflected on what this day means to them. Whether you were in NYC, DC, or Pennsylvania on that day or if you were sitting on your couch watching the footage from the safety of your living room thousands of miles away, each and every one of us was affected by what occurred on 9/11/01.
Last October I finally visited the National 9/11 Memorial and Museum in New York City. It was as painful and beautiful as I expected it to be. Reliving the fear and sadness from that day brought back a flood of emotions that I had locked up for over fourteen years. Today, as I scrolled through my Facebook newsfeed and saw all of the pictures and videos people were sharing in memory of those who died on 9/11/01, that same sadness and anxiety began to resurface.
I was twenty-three years old, working as a receptionist for a corporate real estate company in a high rise building in Boston. I was fresh out of college and new to adulthood. When the news of the terrorists attacks reached me, I opted to stay at work all day and help ease the fears of the hundreds of tenants in our office building (the company I worked for managed the office building in which we worked). We never ordered an evacuation but eventually every company that worked in our building left; the building was basically empty before 5 p.m. that day - I can assure you that never ever happened before or after that day. In fact, it seemed like the entire city of Boston was empty by 5 p.m. that day; when I got on the commuter train to head home at 5:30, the train car I sat in was completely empty except for me and the train conductor collecting tickets. If you have ever taken a commuter train from a city during rush hour on a work day, you know that getting a seat is a big deal because the train cars are always jam-packed, so an empty train car at 5:30 p.m. on a Tuesday is completely bizarre. The empty building, empty city, and empty train felt surreal and apocalyptic.
September 11, 2001 was hands down the most terrifying day of my life. Hundreds of people were lighting up our switchboard at work, many screaming at me, demanding to know if we were in danger and if the building was going to be evacuated because they were afraid and didn't know if our city was in danger. I don't know how I did it but I managed to keep my cool for hours on end; I remained stoic and professional and I answered every single phone call that came in. My boss finally came over and told me to take a break and she insisted on covering the phones for me; when she relieved me of my duties, I went into the single stall bathroom in our suite, sat down on the floor, and cried hysterically. I cried so hard I couldn't breathe. I just kept thinking over and over again, "This is it, this is the end of the world". And at that moment in time, I truly believed that to be true.
The world as I know it changed forever that day. I have always been an anxious person, constantly worrying about things I can't control, but after 9/11/01, that anxiety became bigger and more forceful and it settled in my heart and my head permanently. The realization that I am not safe, that I could be killed on an airplane, or in an office building, or walking down the street, was startling. It was scary to know that my life is at risk every day. And that I just had to accept this and move on. I realize now that before 9/11, I was still a child who believed she was immortal. After that day fifteen years ago, my mortality became real, and whatever little bit of innocence I still had at that point in time, was abruptly snatched away...forever.
I watched the news every single day for about two years following that fateful day. I kept waiting for another terrorist attack. It was years before I felt secure again; but even though a lot of time has passed and I am not as terrified as I was fifteen years ago, I never went back to feeling as secure as I did before the attacks on 9/11. I don't think anyone did.
When I see photos and footage from 9/11 now, many years later, it feels as though it happened only yesterday, and the terrifying loss of innocence I experienced that day comes screaming back to me. But today I tried to take a different approach to remembering 9/11/01; instead of focusing on the pain and fear from that day, I tried to focus on the love. After that terrible day, our country came together in a way I had never seen before. Our nation proved that despite race, religion, social status, and political affiliation, above all else we are Americans, and we would not stand for anyone attacking our brothers and sisters. What happened on 9/11 was despicable and disgusting and we would not lie down and allow evil to overcome us. American flags were in every window, on every car, on every house. In fact, I remember that American flags were actually on backorder for months because people were buying them faster than they could be produced. The swell of love and togetherness was so powerful and overwhelming, you could almost feel it physically, even from across the country. Strangers were suddenly family, and the support was unending. In the face of tragedy we didn't turn on one another or blame one another, we came together and remained united.
I think it's important to remember the love and resilience that came out of 9/11/01. I think we owe it to the people who died that day to focus on that and not to allow the fear and anxiety to overcome us. I won't ever forget that day, but from now on I will try to keep the memory of that love and resilience in my heart - not just on the anniversary of 9/11 - but every single day.
Last October I finally visited the National 9/11 Memorial and Museum in New York City. It was as painful and beautiful as I expected it to be. Reliving the fear and sadness from that day brought back a flood of emotions that I had locked up for over fourteen years. Today, as I scrolled through my Facebook newsfeed and saw all of the pictures and videos people were sharing in memory of those who died on 9/11/01, that same sadness and anxiety began to resurface.
I was twenty-three years old, working as a receptionist for a corporate real estate company in a high rise building in Boston. I was fresh out of college and new to adulthood. When the news of the terrorists attacks reached me, I opted to stay at work all day and help ease the fears of the hundreds of tenants in our office building (the company I worked for managed the office building in which we worked). We never ordered an evacuation but eventually every company that worked in our building left; the building was basically empty before 5 p.m. that day - I can assure you that never ever happened before or after that day. In fact, it seemed like the entire city of Boston was empty by 5 p.m. that day; when I got on the commuter train to head home at 5:30, the train car I sat in was completely empty except for me and the train conductor collecting tickets. If you have ever taken a commuter train from a city during rush hour on a work day, you know that getting a seat is a big deal because the train cars are always jam-packed, so an empty train car at 5:30 p.m. on a Tuesday is completely bizarre. The empty building, empty city, and empty train felt surreal and apocalyptic.
September 11, 2001 was hands down the most terrifying day of my life. Hundreds of people were lighting up our switchboard at work, many screaming at me, demanding to know if we were in danger and if the building was going to be evacuated because they were afraid and didn't know if our city was in danger. I don't know how I did it but I managed to keep my cool for hours on end; I remained stoic and professional and I answered every single phone call that came in. My boss finally came over and told me to take a break and she insisted on covering the phones for me; when she relieved me of my duties, I went into the single stall bathroom in our suite, sat down on the floor, and cried hysterically. I cried so hard I couldn't breathe. I just kept thinking over and over again, "This is it, this is the end of the world". And at that moment in time, I truly believed that to be true.
The world as I know it changed forever that day. I have always been an anxious person, constantly worrying about things I can't control, but after 9/11/01, that anxiety became bigger and more forceful and it settled in my heart and my head permanently. The realization that I am not safe, that I could be killed on an airplane, or in an office building, or walking down the street, was startling. It was scary to know that my life is at risk every day. And that I just had to accept this and move on. I realize now that before 9/11, I was still a child who believed she was immortal. After that day fifteen years ago, my mortality became real, and whatever little bit of innocence I still had at that point in time, was abruptly snatched away...forever.
I watched the news every single day for about two years following that fateful day. I kept waiting for another terrorist attack. It was years before I felt secure again; but even though a lot of time has passed and I am not as terrified as I was fifteen years ago, I never went back to feeling as secure as I did before the attacks on 9/11. I don't think anyone did.
When I see photos and footage from 9/11 now, many years later, it feels as though it happened only yesterday, and the terrifying loss of innocence I experienced that day comes screaming back to me. But today I tried to take a different approach to remembering 9/11/01; instead of focusing on the pain and fear from that day, I tried to focus on the love. After that terrible day, our country came together in a way I had never seen before. Our nation proved that despite race, religion, social status, and political affiliation, above all else we are Americans, and we would not stand for anyone attacking our brothers and sisters. What happened on 9/11 was despicable and disgusting and we would not lie down and allow evil to overcome us. American flags were in every window, on every car, on every house. In fact, I remember that American flags were actually on backorder for months because people were buying them faster than they could be produced. The swell of love and togetherness was so powerful and overwhelming, you could almost feel it physically, even from across the country. Strangers were suddenly family, and the support was unending. In the face of tragedy we didn't turn on one another or blame one another, we came together and remained united.
I think it's important to remember the love and resilience that came out of 9/11/01. I think we owe it to the people who died that day to focus on that and not to allow the fear and anxiety to overcome us. I won't ever forget that day, but from now on I will try to keep the memory of that love and resilience in my heart - not just on the anniversary of 9/11 - but every single day.
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