This morning I got out to run on a trail in the Salt Lake foothills, in 20* weather and a light snowfall. That sentence alone, coming from me, would be a shock to anyone that knows me.
I don’t like to run and I don’t really like to be cold.
I was joined by 60-70 other people as well to run a mild 5K - only those “other” people were mostly die hard trail runners and ultra marathon runners. I was WAY out of my element.
I had to google pictures and ask my wife this morning what I’m supposed to wear. I didn’t want to look out of place.
That’s when the imposter syndrome hit.
What the fuck am I doing out here with these people?
These are people that run 100 miles for FUN. It’s their hobby.
I was there supporting my friend Josh Rosenthal, who I wrote one of my first letters to of this project, as he flew back from Paris to hold the run and a podcast following the run with legendary content creator and filmmaker Billy Yang (who’s content is about ultra running).
The imposter syndrome really hit when we gathered to start the run. The thoughts came flooding into my head.
Can I keep up?
Am I going to embarrass myself?
What if I do embarrass myself?
I took some deep breaths, cleared my head of the noise, and just told myself what I used to tell myself when I was riding my bike 100+ miles and that I learned from my friend Kyle Odom.
Just put one foot over the other. Keep turning them over, just keep moving
So I did, and made it, and it was great.
Afterwards Josh recorded a podcast with Billy.
They each opened up to some really intimate moments about why they trail run. At one point Billy said those same words that I had learned.
“Just keep moving”
Billy’s context of saying this was in regards to when his father got killed at their family business in LA during a botched robbery. It was heartbreaking.
The meaning takes on much more when you think of it THAT way. Billy has an incredible video on YouTube titled “The Why,” and you should just watch it:
And really when you think about it we all have our own context for “just keep moving.”
I started riding my bike hundreds of miles at a time after I got diagnosed with rare sarcoma tumors (Tenosynovial Giant Cell Tumors) in 2014. My reason to just keep moving was more about the distraction away from thinking about losing my foot (or worse) and digging in deeper into my soul.
I rehabbed after my first tumor excision downstairs on my Wahoo trainer for months when I couldn’t walk or run yet. A year later I completed The Growler at the Levi’s Gran Fondo (138 miles with 13,500 ft of climbing). It was brutal, but one of my greatest memories in my life.
Without these sorts of outlets in life I think we are left feeling more exposed and vulnerable - much more so than being an imposter.
What I’m really saying is imposter syndrome is a dirty trick our brain plays on us. I’m sure there is some anthropomorphic reason why it exits, safety or preservation, but fuck all that noise. Get out and learn to dig deep. I’m thankful for it existing only in the sense that getting past it makes life more meaningful.
It’s way more important than any sort of preservation, because who knows when you won’t be able to use your body anymore. For me, for years, I didn’t know if someday my foot and ankle would still be part of my body.
Heck, I’ve already done the research on which robot/artificial/prosthetic foot/ankle I want. Even then I’ll just keep moving. There is no other choice. And for knowing that, I am deeply grateful.
With love and deep appreciation,
-Andrew