*This nibble was originally published on www.readwritethinkwithrenee.com.

During my early years as a staff developer, I wanted to learn how to run. I liked the idea of running. The thought of taking on a new hobby made me excited. I liked the idea of lacing up my sneakers and heading out the door all before sunrise. I wanted to introduce myself by saying, “I’m Brooke and I’m a runner.” Heck, running was a good excuse to buy shiny sneakers and new outfits.

My weekends were filled with driving to stores that specialized in running so I could purchase the latest running gadget and during the week, I loaded my work bag with copies of Runner’s World magazine. I mapped out the best routes to run. I was living the life of a runner. My passion was flourishing.  

I had a secret. Ready? Here it is. 

I never ran. I never put on the shiny sneakers and new outfits and I never followed one of those routes I mapped out. I was living the secret life of a runner to the outside world and it was working for me. Friends and acquaintances believed I was a runner who was discipled and passionate about the sport. Only one person knew the truth-my husband. One day, he waited for me to finish telling him facts from a running article I read and in a snarky voice, asked, “Are you actually going to run or just read about it?” My gig was up. 

To avoid embarrassment and keep up with the image I created, I decided to try the thing I had been setting myself up to do for months. I laced up those shiny sneakers, put on my best outfit and headed out the door to one of the routes I mapped out. Feeling the gravel under my sneakers felt good and so did pumping my arms to go faster. I waited for the ‘runners high’ I read about to set in, but my side started to cramp instead. “No, no, no,” I thought as I held onto my side and proceeded to recall all the advice I had read. Worse yet, boredom set in and I thought, “What if I stop up ahead at that tree and come back tomorrow and run further to make up for stopping?” Convincing myself tomorrow would be better, I slowed down my pace, turned around and walked back to my car. Just then, a group I runners passed on my right. I mustered up the courage to smile at them. 

The next few weekends followed the same pattern-sneakers, outfit, route, boredom and a promise to try harder another time. Another group of runners passed by as I headed to my car. Quickly, this pattern led to a feeling of defeat and not too long after that, I gave up entirely and stopped dressing like a runner. 

In my attempt to overcome extreme disappointment, I tried to avoid my problem by hiding my shiny sneakers in the back of my closet and canceling my subscription to Runner’s World. Acquaintances asked about my hobby and my reaction was always the same. “Running? It’s going really well,” all while doing everything possible to change the subject. I felt like an imposter and worse yet-a quitter. Even though I knew a lot of technical things about running, I came to realize the shiny sneakers and new outfits weren’t enough to motivate me and I felt alone. To overcome these feelings, I needed company to push me. I was struggling and maybe with someone else, I could be a better version of myself, but I didn’t have a community to lean on. The groups of runners who always passed me were strangers and I had no way to connect with them. It was too awkward to ask strangers if I could join them, but maybe I could start with acquaintances. 

I decided to ask fellow staff developers, Renee Houser and Gravity Goldberg if they wanted to join me for a run in Central Park in NYC. At the time, I only knew a few things about them. They were athletes in college and they had the time in their schedules. They seemed to be the kind of people I wanted to learn from. Possibly, they could be the company I was searching for. Together, the three of us could get better at running. 

On a chilly Sunday morning, we stood at the entrance of Tavern on the Green in Central Park and I heard Gravity say, “Follow me. I know a good loop to start out with,” as she gestured for Renee and I to follow her. Renee took off in front and a little panic set in. Little did they know I could barely make it down the street without cramping up and now Gravity expected me to run loops in Central Park. I hesitated, but I followed behind the two of them. Soon, we ran past trees, groups of other runners and up hills. Pumping my arms, I thought to myself, “I am going further than I usually go on my own. I am a runner! I am doing this!” 

Each meeting in Central Park taught me more about Renee and Gravity and about my needs. As our routes got longer, our relationship flourished, and I was becoming a better version of myself in their company. I was growing and developing in ways I never imagined. All because of the people I surrounded myself with.

Our running days are long gone. All that remains are a few pictures from races and memories we rekindle through text messages. Regardless of geography, our friendship has withstood time. We hold onto the lessons we learned while running in Central Park. Those runs taught us the power of knowing one’s limitations, working together and helping others become the best version of themselves. It was transformational and as an educator, it can be equally impactful when you carve out time to think about your strengths and even your limitations. Regardless of where you are in your journey as an educator, transformation also occurs when you apply what you are learning about yourself to seek out mentors. These mentors can help you navigate the unknown, rather than give up and before you know it, they can help you be the best version of yourself. 

Carving out this reflection time might be easier said than done. Let’s face it, as an educator, someone along the way recognized your strengths. It might have been a colleague who thanked you for listening when they had a bad day or it might have been a boss who noticed you were good at handling a difficult meeting with a parent. With our busy schedules it is easy to work alone, to get lost in tasks especially those that we are already proficient at. If you are a classroom teacher, remember mornings quickly prepping for the day. If you are a principal, picture times when you close your door and plow through reports or observations. Now, for a moment, think about what it feels like when you need a boost or have to tackle a complex project like progress reports, scheduling or program development. Forging a partnership can help you be more productive. Possibly a partnership can help you see a task in new ways. 

Before you reach out to the usual people you surround yourself with for support and guidance, consider my running club with Renee and Gravity. Think about the circumstances that brought us together. We were unlikely partners who joined together based on a common desire. We wanted to run. We brought different strengths to the sport-all while having fun. Our relationship developed into trust, which is the foundation of our friendship today.

Before you look for a community to work alongside you, take stock of your needs. Reserve time for yourself to learn. Clear your desk, set a timer, take out your favorite notebook and pen. Get yourself in the physical and mental space to reflect on your needs. Rather than thinking about your needs as a whole, break it down. Consider your talents and limitations. Time well spent on reflection will have a lasting impact on your wellbeing. This exercise can help you find the community you are looking for and help you network with others. Who knows, maybe you will form a new hobby like running. 

Questions to Ask Yourself

• What talents do I have that others can benefit from?
• What do I need in a thought partner to feel successful?
• What are my limitations? 

Questions to Ask Others

• What do we have in common that can bring us together?
• What do you need from me as a partner? 
• How do you want to communicate? Phone? Video conferencing? Social media?
• How long do you anticipate working together on this task? 

What questions will you ask, leaders?