The C Word – Commitment 

19 Sep

Hello lovelies.

I‘ve yet again fallen silent due to the circumstances that be – but I’m breaking the silence regardless of the impeding D not being finalized.


Ahhh. Rest assured for those of you who troll my social media outlets to see what I make of you, your sordid homage to my past and what I am doing today…keep scrolling…


With that, let me provoke you to think of the C word – commitment.


What comes to mind? A nauseated wave of fear or excitement?!


I hover over the edge of both.


However, when it comes to me I’m all in. Always. I am 100% vested in my commitment to myself.

Don’t misconstrue this as selfish. It just means I always bet on myself. I know my goals, what I love, and what I can and cannot tolerate to name a few. I’m committed to self-acceptance, forgiveness, and growth. I’m committed to healing and to loving wholly. I’m committed to leaving the ghosts of my past in the past for that ghost ship has long sailed. May it drift toward their own destinies of happiness without causing an undercurrent in mine.

 

When it comes to running, I am committed to doing my personal best. Shiny finisher medals are fabulous but I don’t need them to keep me on track. They are merely a collection of the trials of mental grit that I’ve pushed through. They are reminders that I can commit to difficult things.


What does influence me? My commitment for A PR (personal record) baby!!! I continue to focus on becoming the best version of myself on the track by pushing myself outside the boundaries of my comfort zone. Sometimes I am mortified by my inability. Sometimes I’m stoked by just that.

 

Every individual perceives they are capable of only so much when “so much” is so little. Stop underestimating your abilities! You have to realize you can outperform all obstacles. You have to divorce negative thoughts to get through the barriers and get that PR on and off the course. It takes vigilant effort. Every. Single. Day.

 

Failure happens. A bruised ego and time only makes you better. It takes falling on your ass and a little self-pity. Then you dry your eyes and buckle down. Smile when the shitstorm hits hard. Pillage through the fallout and find meaning in the destruction. Refuse to play victim. Create a mantra “So what [I] failed at meeting [my] lofty PR. So what [I] failed at [my] marriage.”

Consider failure as a right of passage. Success often ensues after the chaos.

 

Reject the notion that hardships and disappointments harden you. They don’t. They make you someone of substance. Humility should help you aspire for more. Welcome your bruises. Find beauty in your scars. They are reminders of how far you’ve traveled.

 

And I have traveled. 2400 miles from home to the unknown. 26.2 miles on foot x 2 plus training. I have a commitment to running and to outperform my own self in all things. I will crush the wall that stands before me. I am committed to that.

 

Back to a finisher’s medal…what does it symbolize?

The finisher’s medal is delayed gratification. It represents the commitment of hours you spent training and investing in the race. The finisher’s medal symbolizes personal triumph to finish a preposterous goal! It is the ultimate reward for the sweat, tears, and perspiration for the countless hours of logging miles, the long days, the restless nights, the gruesome aches, the blistered feet, the abominable ice baths, mental fatigue, self-doubt, etc. The finisher’s medal is an adornment that highlights your commitment to be badass. It meets you with incessant compassion reminding you that you can commit to hard things.


Hard things. Hard things like marriage…

 

On the topic, what the does a ring symbolize in marriage? In some cases, repeat some, the ring is instant gratification for delayed discontentment – the stark contrast of a finisher’s medal. It meets a partner with incessant excitement until the newness and shine fade. Note:  Only for some individuals is this true.


Does the ring really mean commitment? Or is it a premature gesture that silently foreshadows that you are now committed to the aforementioned in running: countless hours of [insert here (e.g. annoying reality t.v., YouTube clips, sports center, horrible grade D movies, soap operas, American idol, complaining, loneliness, etc.)], restless nights, gruesome aches, blistered feet, ice baths (you kinky thang), mental fatigue, self-doubt etc.?


No one tells you that the ring is a premature promise to put in the work that goes into a marriage.


Imagine getting a finisher’s medal at the starting line of a race just like you get a ring at the beginning of becoming a Mr. And Mrs. Are you imagining? Does it not dilute the effort you’d put in for a PR? Does the ring do the same thing? Does it not dilute the effort you’d ordinarily put into the relationship because well now, you “got em on lockdown!!!”? Note: I know not all people think this way – I don’t.


Don’t get me wrong, the commitment of marriage and the sanctity of a ring is indeed beautiful. But the ring shouldn’t be a reward because you think you earned it. It shouldn’t mean that just because you invested time and energy into the relationship that it is owed to you. That makes it lose the dazzle and compassion of commitment before the journey even begins. The excitement should be the journey – not the brilliant shine of your carat(s).


It doesn’t mean that you’re free to engage in poor behavior either. It doesn’t mean you now have an easy pass to let yourself go. The ring should symbolize your commitment to work at your marriage every day. You don’t stop working at it just because you say “I do.” You work through every day by putting your best foot forward while accepting that at times your best foot forward has you performing at your worst.


“Worst” is objective. A ring should not be a commitment to stay by your partner’s side if their worst performance makes you feel trapped in a horrible rendition of Groundhog’s Day. Freelancing with anger and refusing personal accountability for actions is unacceptable.


Commitment is more than accepting someone’s worst. It’s recognizing you also deserve the best. It’s knowing how to distinguish the difference.


You have to be committed to yourself. Undress your mind of the boilerplate bullshit. The status quo is too ordinary. You’re not ordinary. Commit to loving yourself. If you break a commitment and you start looking for that decree, own it. Don’t muddle it up with excuses. Practice humility. Breathe. Accept it.


No one intentionally breaks commitments because they want to. Just like you don’t run a race looking to perform half-assed. Stay committed to run your own race. Own your detours. The race that is your dream for plans belongs to you. Zig and zag to dodge the unnecessary. It may take you longer to get to your destiny but you will get there. You might unintentionally break a few hearts along the way. Note: This doesn’t make you a bad person. But don’t break your own heart by committing to something you feel and know is inherently wrong. Commit yourself to your own happiness! You might break a few commitments along the way but so long as you didn’t break the commitment to yourself to be true, you are living authentically.


Don’t let the race cause you discomfort. This is your story.


My story is littered with failure. I’m comfortable with it. I accept that I fail on the track. Miserably. I can put my best foot forward but at times it renders me sub-par. Sub-freaking par!!! I beat myself up over it. I know it’s part of the training but it still hurts. The sheer disappointment glaring at me on my Garmin. Ugh. I want to tell it to go to hell for mocking me. But it’s part of growth. It’s part of self-acceptance. You can’t always be on your A-game.

Off the course, in something called marriage, I’ll admit I was always sub-par. A-game? I didn’t even know what that looked like. No kidding. I tried to put my best foot forward but it left me bruised. I was clumsy with my needs. My wants. My expectations. I hadn’t constructed any of this. I was blind. Not always by any fault other than my own. Other times by no fault of my own.


I hear muddled truths married with blatant lies about what went badly amiss in my commitment to my nuptials. But they were my nuptials. I know went happened. 


Newsflash: I admit to failure. This is self-acceptance. I’m brave enough to accept the folklore.

 

To counter the nonsense, I commit to fall deaf to wicked tongues. I do this because I am committed to credibility. You must consider the source. Sing that song by Big Sean, “I don’t fuck with you”. Let it resonate. Repeat.

 

I’m looking for a commitment that is long-term. Do you know what that looks like? It means I’m betting on myself.



Until then I’ll continue to race past the finish lines for the bright jewel that is a finisher’s medal. It always meets me with equal compassion. The finisher’s medal holds no expectations of me and doesn’t whisper empty promises. Instead it consoles me and my spirit while gloating about how badass I am. I had the diamond ring. It didn’t do any of that.

 

I’m committed to my own happily ever after.

 

Until next time…

 

Thanks for stopping by!

 

Happy running!

 

Love the life you live. It’s your race.

 

Valgal

 

XO

Advertisements

4 Responses to “The C Word – Commitment ”

  1. Morgan James September 19, 2015 at 11:23 pm #

    Beautifully written!
    I wish I had your voice when I went through a divorce.
    Love with intention and live without regrets….and screw the trolls.

  2. Michelle Gascoyne September 20, 2015 at 12:57 am #

    You are such an inspiration girl !

    Keep doing your thing! 🙂
    I’m so glad you’re committed to your happiness , you deserve the best !

    • valerietoth September 20, 2015 at 12:58 am #

      Thank you, Michelle!!! You are too! I love you me light and beauty! You amaze me with your strength!!! XO

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: