Definitions

Sometimes I have deep thoughts. Sometimes they make it out right away. 

Sometimes they don't make it out at all. 

And sometimes they just mull around in my head until it's time.

Today it's time.

One Sunday, several years ago, I was in a church lesson and heard a story about a woman who had experienced some really challenging issues. One day she found herself at a crossroads in life, a place where she could choose a path of self-destruction, or a path of goodness. She chose goodness. And a Sunday discussion then ensued about crossroads. And "defining moments".

I thought and thought about what exactly defines a "defining moment". 

And what defines us. 

What defines me.

I thought about this for months. And years.

And came up with my own conclusion.

Fast forward to last summer when I took a late night run with The Man. Although the sun had long since fallen and given way to gentle moonlight, it was still sticky and heavy out, with temperatures near ninety. This can make for some hard running! But with good music and a strong resolve to keep my pace I was happy for the quiet and still that accompanies night runs. (In my perfect world, every race would be run in the stillness of night.)

But running with The Man is very different than running by myself. We run at different paces. And he tends to go out fast, while I go out slow. He always stays one, or two, or ten (....a hundred?) steps ahead of me. So in an effort to keep up I tend to push more than I want, before I want, prematurely tiring my lungs and legs. And sometimes the feeling I get of "being behind" exhausts me mentally.

This was how the run was going on this late night. And I found myself frustrated.

But I knew I had a choice. I could go on being frustrated, throw away my resolve to keep my pace, and ultimately end up with a run a wish I hadn't taken. Or I could swallow my pride, ignore being behind, get into a groove, and go home happy.

I chose the latter.

And I fell behind.
    Far behind.
        But I got into a groove.
            Where my mind drifted back to that Sunday lesson.

                And I wondered about elite runners and what drives them to finish first.
                And I thought about their races and how they train.
                And I contemplated what defines them.

            I came to a conclusion.
        Elite runners are not defined by the Big Race, or the Big Finish.
    Because by the time they get to the Big Race, or the Big Finish, they have already been defined...

By every run,
Every workout,
Every stretch,
Every sacrifice,
Every ounce of sweat,
Every small and singular step, whether miserable or triumphant, that gets them to the start line.

An elite runner makes each defining choice long before the race.

And while life certainly affords crossroads and paths, important life-altering choices that set courses, I have come to believe that we define ourselves in the smaller, simpler, singular acts that happen every day. The constant things that have shaped who we are, and determine who we are becoming. Like the woman in the Sunday story, we are defined well before we reach the "defining moment".

Others may judge me by my most important accomplishments. 

Or by my most devastating mistakes. 

But what I know of me is that I am defined in the becoming.