Acting Out

A life lesson learned from running.

Many years ago, I was in a lousy job - like really lousy. Think one of those reality tv shows where you get dumped on an island with toxic people. 

What I had, and needed to make work somewhat bearable, was running. Already my ‘happy place’, running also became my solace from a difficult workplace where I spent 40 hours of my week. It was the thing that helped me ‘switch off’, let off steam, recharge the batteries and just ‘be me’. Which was an added bonus to the obvious health benefits and amazing scenery that’s a part of my running experience.

Then one day I noticed something, all those amazing and positive things that gave me my ‘runners high’ were suddenly being elbowed to the side by my problems at work. Encounters with native wildlife and the powerful force of the rapids all around me seemingly didn’t exist anymore. Instead this was replaced by thoughts of “they can’t treat me this way!” or “this is what I’ll say to them next time!” - sometimes both. 

I immediately tried to block it all out, change the subject and even criticised myself for having such intrusive and unwelcome thoughts. “This is running, not work - do better you idiot!”

But the more I tried, and I tried a lot - over many months actually, to repel these difficult thoughts and feelings polluting my once beloved running, the harder they seem to come back at me. The more bad stuff that happened at work - the more fuel to the fire in my head. On it went, like a tape in my head. Naturally it impacted my running - some days more than others, but something had to change. 

Following yet another horrible day at work, I set off running, my mind still very much stuck in that office with ‘those’ people. As I struggled through the bush and along the winding trail, an odd thing happened. Almost involuntarily, hands on knees, I came to a physical halt. 

Feeling beaten and dejected, I decided to just look around and take everything in - the birds and trees, river flowing, even the sound of my labored breathing and the heat of the afternoon. The reasons as to why I felt my frustration were there too, only this time I didn't fight them, or try to “run them out”. 

I didn’t try anything actually - instead I just let them be there. 

Then I came back to where I stood, and realised stopping at that moment had made me present. Still looking around at all the amazing scenery I said to myself “this is why you do this”. Crazy as it sounds, it seemed as though I'd somehow forgotten. 

It wouldn’t be the last time difficult thoughts would enter my head, but it would be the first time I'd recognise and accept them for what they are, just thoughts, neither good or bad. They just ‘are’. Even when we’re doing the things we love and have the most meaning to us.

Years later, I would learn about Acceptance Commitment Therapy - or ‘Act’. Little did I know, but that day I'd made a choice to try and be in the moment, particularly when it counts. Mindful. 

Through years of clinical practice, I’ve helped my clients understand that Act allows us to accept difficult thoughts and feelings we can’t control, instead of trying to fight them.

I’d love to share more with you through these blogs on the benefit that Act can have in your everyday life.