No one can take away the training

I used to speak mostly when someone spoke to me.

In meetings and gatherings, I stayed quiet. I did not trust that what I had to say mattered. Confidence felt like something other people naturally had and I did not.

After moving from Indiana to Seattle, I decided I wanted to change my life. I changed my health, lost a lot of weight, and began working out. Then I began running.

My first run was miserable. I kept going anyway. Eventually I finished a half marathon, then decided to train for the Seattle Marathon.

The race I trained for was not the race I got

The marathon went wrong early. I cramped more than once, and late in the race I reached a point where I could barely move.

I never seriously considered quitting. But wanting to continue and being able to move forward were no longer the same thing.

My girlfriend and friends walked beside me while I was struggling. Their belief gave me a promise to keep when my own body had stopped cooperating.

I have told them what that meant to me. I am still not sure they understand how much they came through for me that day.

I finished. I am a marathoner.

I suffered, and I might as well get a reward from it.

Evidence I can keep

The finish mattered, but the training mattered more. No one can take away the training that I did.

That experience changed how I understand confidence. I did not wait until I felt confident and then attempt difficult things. I attempted difficult things, kept the evidence, and slowly learned to trust myself.

I speak up more now. I do not assume that I am always right. I simply no longer assume that what I have to say does not matter.