Distance

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about distance. My husband and I are training for Ironman Maryland and the distances involved in all three aspects (swim, bike, and run) are daunting. Even though the race six months away, I find myself overwhelmed by all of the distance we will need to cover between now and then. I’m also thinking about distance in another way, as in putting distance between myself and the things that are dragging me down. Things like spending too much time addictively traipsing through the endless maze of my Facebook newsfeed. (Cute cat video anyone?)
 
Another thing about distance is that it's a valuable tool for buying reaction time. In driving, you simply can’t react fast enough in an emergency if you’re tailgating. Laws of physics. Simply demonstrated. Keeping your distance gives you more time to slam on the brakes or swerve out of the way if need be. Distance buys you the time to quickly make decisions that are sometimes the fine line between life and death. Distance buys reaction time.
 
When I taught women’s self-defense, we drilled this mantra into our students’ heads. Distance buys reaction time. It’s true in driving. And it’s true when it comes to defending yourself against a potential attack. 
 
Distance. Distance. Distance.
 
Picture this: Someone is approaching you on the street, or in a parking lot, or on a wooded trail. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your intuition tells you that something just isn’t right. Distance buys reaction time. With enough distance, you might be able to run to safety and/or plan what you will do next. 
 
Distance. Distance. Distance. 
 
I'm learning that distance also buys perspective. Because it’s only in distance that I can see clearly. Distancing myself from an issue or a period of blocked creativity often proves necessary in resolving the problem or letting ideas flow freely. Distance’s opposite – proximity – is a dangerous foe. It’s a complex dance as both Distance and Proximity fight to lead. In this dance, Proximity keeps stepping on Distance’s toes. Distance retreats a bit because Distance is too weak to fight Proximity’s power. Proximity is making the outline of a worry or fear come into focus, rendering it crisp and sharp. The colors that fill the outline of the worry are too vivid. The imagination starts doing its thing, in a bad way, and now the river where we’ll soon be swimming is filled with sea monsters and sharks. I need Distance to pull me away. Because Distance buys perspective. Distance buys reaction time.