Not-So-Great Expectations

A short story about a long run.

They say there are three sides to every story — yours, mine, and the truth.

By that same logic, there are also three sides to any situation — what we expect, what actually happens, and how we process it after the fact.

For a long while, I thought this week’s topic was a done deal. This was the week after the marathon. And that was the story I would tell.

Whether I finished or didn’t, whether I emerged victorious or injured (or some version of both), I’d report back with whatever I learned out there, along with the creative signs, funny costumes, and touching moments that made the day special.

That’s not how it worked out.

I did cross the finish line having glimpsed no shortage of funny, touching, creative things. But nothing went according to plan.

The arm chafe is real. (Not pictured: Other chafing. Equally real.)

First, there was the weather. It was a balmy 75°F/24°C, which is a good deal hotter than ideal marathon temperature (45°F/7°C). And it was HUMID.

One thread on the RunNYC subreddit, aptly titled “That was f*cking awful,” currently has 297 comments filled with stories, observations, and commiseration. The words “brutal” and “bloodbath” make frequent appearances.

Nearly everyone was slower, saltier, dizzier, and more dehydrated than anticipated. Goal times were scrapped, race plans were abandoned, expectations were adjusted.

All things considered, I had a decent race. It was my first, so I had no crisp, fall day to compare it to. But in the days that followed, I sustained a freak injury (I’ll be fine, but let’s just say I’ll never be a foot model and I can’t wear shoes for a while) and came down with COVID.

And that pretty much sums up my week.

What started on a high quickly tumbled into a low. From my perch, by which I mean my phone, it seemed like everyone else was doing just GREAT. Careers on fire, happy personal lives, ample wearing of shoes, thriving all around.

I’d expected some version of the “post-race blues,” similar to the letdown people report after a wedding or trip or the launch of a big project. But I hadn’t expected an all-out crash. Instead of reflecting on my accomplishment, I spent the bulk of the week questioning my life choices and wondering how I might change them.

I mention this because I think it’s important to note — expectations don’t always match reality, and reality doesn’t always match public perception. I was fresh off an event with a literal highlight reel, captured by a photographer and available for purchase. (And make no mistake, I will buy it, and then I will post it, and I will enjoy it.) But we all have good and bad days, sometimes in quick succession, or even at the same time.

Talk about overheating.

If a marathon is a metaphor for life, then NYC 2022 came to teach us how to accept what we cannot control. How to reframe a difficult or disappointing experience as one of resilience. How to take pride in our accomplishments, even when they may not match our goals.

While it was a day full of heroes, the ones who stood out did so not because of speed, but because of spirit. A few favorites:

• The runner(s) dressed like Spider-Man who frequently stopped to high-five young children.

• Alexi Pappas, for being Alexi Pappas.

• The marathon itself, for being inclusive of all paces and backgrounds, and for being the first sporting event to be named a Safe Space by the Stonewall Inn.

• The always-warm reception for the final finishers, a spirited party after dark. (I dare you to watch that without crying.)

Indeed, everyone who showed up is a hero — athletes, supporters, and volunteers alike — including and especially the runners who trusted their intuition and made whatever adjustments were needed in order to respect and honor themselves. Success doesn’t look one way. And it doesn’t feel one way, either.

In the end, I guess I wound up writing about exactly what I planned to. As with most things, it just came about a little different than I expected.

Where’s Waldo? (or Wally, depending on where you live. But really, you’re looking for me.)

Card of the Week

Here is this week’s card for the collective, as well as some thoughts to carry into the days ahead. As most modern readers will tell you, the tarot is not about fortunetelling, nor is it about neat, definitive answers. The cards are simply one path to reflection, a way of better knowing ourselves and others through universal themes. If this reading resonates with you, great! And if not, no worries. Take whatever may be helpful and leave the rest.

Featuring the Margarete Petersen Tarot Deck

There are two cards in a tarot deck that almost always garner an unfavorable reaction. Death and The Devil. Neither is meant to be taken literally. And while they’re not as beloved as, say, The Sun, they have plenty of meaningful things to teach us.

So let’s get one thing clear from the start. When it comes to The Devil, we’re not talking about Beelzebub. It has nothing to do with evil. Nor does this card foretell that a pitchfork wielding monster will appear in your room and offer up a Faustian bargain.

Relax, there is nothing to fear. The Devil you see in this card is one you are already acquainted with. The message is to acknowledge that presence, examine that relationship, and consider what is healthiest for you.

I appreciate how this particular interpretation shows The Devil as less of an entity and more of an energy. It’s the seductive force of advertisements, the siren song of quick fixes, the relentless cycle of “self-improvement” that never reaches an end.

Traditionally, this card is taught as relating to our vices, and if that resonates with you, then by all means, pursue that interpretation. But when The Devil appeared this week, my mind immediately jumped to the realm of self-talk.

The Devil points to limiting forces in our lives — material, emotional, chemical, physical — anything that holds us back. But for so many of us, we play an active role in our own limitations. We talk ourselves out of going after what we want. We convince ourselves we aren’t good enough. We let fear encroach upon what excites us.

It’s a bit like that trope where characters are shown with a proverbial devil and angel on each shoulder. The devil’s role is to talk them into doing something bad or wrong or shameful. But in our case, the devil tries to convince us that we are what’s wrong. That we “should” be different. That we have something lacking. That we need to perform, impress, improve.

This card has a message: Don’t listen.

The angel/devil dichotomy paints the world in extremes, when nearly everything exists in shades of grey. Things aren’t inherently good or bad, right or wrong. Things are. We assign their value.

Despite all belief to the contrary, The Devil wants you to live your best life. A life free of constraints, where you are not beholden to limiting messaging. Where you don’t let fear run the show. Where you believe in your inherent worthiness. Where you make choices based on what’s best for you.

There is nothing wrong with pleasure, enjoyment, rest, or relaxation. The only issue is the message we’ve been sold that certain aspects of our lives must be earned, or else shrouded in shadow or shame.

The Devil asks that we shine a light on anything in our lives we view as “good” or “bad,” and examine why this is so. If we feel shame around something, it invites us to examine if this is truly ours to carry, or if it was handed to us by someone else. If we feel powerless over something — a person, a substance, a situation — it asks that we seek support. If we are engaged with something harmful, it encourages us to move away from it.

The biggest surprise of all is to discover that The Devil is a truly supportive character, more on par with a therapist, health coach, or sponsor. With healthy boundaries (and heaps of patience and understanding), the “darker” parts of what make us human don’t look so shameful after all.

This card promises that it’s okay to feel things. Complicated things. Deep things. Things you fear no one could possibly understand. You are not the first person to think that, to want that, to feel this way.

You know all those things the voice of doubt has been trying to pass off as shortcomings? The thoughts that inspire fear and doubt, shame and embarrassment? That doesn’t mean anything is wrong with you. That just makes you human. And that is a beautiful thing to be.

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