I've been wearing my old marathon T-shirt lately. It only dawned on me yesterday when I caught a glimpse of my 34-week pregnant belly protruding out from the bright blue cotton t-shirt. Yes, cotton. Because it’s from the 2014 London Marathon, a time before sports events began giving out dri-fit tops that you would actually want to work out in. Instead, I ran a marathon and got a one-size-fits-all pyjama top that has lived at the bottom of my t-shirt drawer for almost a decade.
So, I wonder why it has started showing up more frequently now as a wardrobe staple.
Practically, I think it's because it's one of the few tops that still fits without giving me a strip of builder's belly. (Full disclosure: I now have three outfits on constant rotation, as these are the only clothes in my wardrobe that fit and feel comfy at 34 weeks pregnant with twins). That said, I could easily borrow one of my husband's T-shirts, which are slightly more trendy than the sad, baggy sack I am choosing to wear.
So I have to wonder if there's something else going on.
Over the past week, I've been sick. It's been the full works: fever, body aches, cough, congestion, and after a whole week, it's only now starting to show signs of shifting. As someone who is rarely sick, let alone for such a prolonged period, this has been a challenge. Combine that with the latter stages of twin pregnancy and I have to say I've been pretty miserable. Throughout my pregnancy, I've prided myself on being positive, and now I've hit a wall. I keep repeating the Zen proverb, "Obstacles do not block the path; they are the path." But it can be hard to see the path when you're exhausted from coughing all night.
Yet, even though I can't begin to imagine 'the path' right now, I can connect to past versions of myself. Times when I have been surprised by my strength and determination at the 11th hour. This can be incredibly comforting to tap into, even if it's not my come-from place at this moment in time.
So, back to the t-shirt: almost a decade ago, I signed up to run the London Marathon to raise money for MS:UK after my dad was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. To that version of me from 2014, I salute you. I can't imagine being you right now, but I know somewhere inside of me you are me, and I am you.
So I wonder if, on some subconscious level, choosing to wear this silly old t-shirt (with the word 'finisher' unsubtly splayed across the front) was a way for me to connect to that part of me. Because whilst marathon running feels so far away right now, that part of me is still me. I am still that person whether I am lying on the sofa pregnant and sick or running the 26th mile. In fact, as I write this, I wonder whether this time right now is the equivalent of my 26th mile in pregnancy. Because when I think back to that last mile of the marathon, there was nothing heroic about it. I was a sweaty, uncomfortable mess on that final stretch to the finish line and looking around, I remember seeing broken bodies everywhere. We weren’t so much fellow runners but comrades limping out of battle, all blood, sweat and tears. And yet, when I look back to the 2014 London Marathon, it is one of my greatest personal achievements to date. It was something I never thought possible, especially with my knees. So, to have overcome that, especially that painful last mile, is something I look back on with so much pride.
It's a refreshing reminder that life isn't lived on the mountaintop; it's about the lessons and growth we pick up along the way.
So, in the not-so-distant future, when I reflect back on the 26th mile of my twin pregnancy, I hope I can appreciate the wisdom of this phase. Not to discount the challenges but to champion the lessons that will emerge if I am open and present to this journey I am on.
How is this obstacle a teacher for me? And what will it offer me if I lean in with a curious heart?