Last year I did the most remarkable thing…in the most un-Libby like move EVER I agreed to participate in a physical activity with a group of girls. GLUNK. A) I am the least physical person you’ll ever encounter. B) I don’t do friends well…I want to, I’ve always wanted too but I always get in my own way and C) I rarely go outside of my comfort zone.
Suprising myself, I agreed to do it. To run. On purpose. To particpate with vitrual strangers. To be bold. To do something I didn’t expect to ever do. I agree to it all. More importantly…I DID IT ALL. I made friends. I started and I finished the race. I completed every obstacle. I never said never….I braved my wall over a wall. I swam across a lake. I ran. By GOD I ran. I jumped and hurtled. I wriggled and slithered. I DID IT. The tear tracks were the only clean part on my body when I finished the mud-swim and crossed the finish line. My ‘medal’ is still caked in mud. As I jogged down the last leg I was crying. I was so amazed at myself. So proud of myself. I was dirty and elated. At one point I raised my fist into the air in triumph and literally SHOUTED, ‘This fat-old lady did it. I did it!”. I didn’t care where I finished, I didn’t care what I looked like doing it. For once in my life I let my best be enough.
So…when it came time to sign up again I couldn’t wait.
Uh…it’s in 2 weeks. Somehow between the stress of my job, the overwhelming lack of energy and a strong denial defense I have totally allowed this race to sneak up on me. I am more out-of-shape then I was LAST year. Despite the best of intentions I have does less to prepare for this race then I did for the one last year. I am a hot, out-of-shape mess. Though I NEED the victory, I NEED the accomplishment and I NEED to push myself out of this rut I really, really am worried that I can’t.
I don’t know if I can do it but I do know I can’t NOT do it. My pride won’t let me. Everything I gained from doing it last year—the confidence, the glee, the pride, the sheer joy of busting out of my comfort zone…it will fizzle if I don’t participate this year. I don’t quit at anything. It’s part of who I am. It is the small part of me that I am proud of. I also don’t willingly do anything that I think I can’t do. Yet here I am, sitting here in clothes BIGGER then I wore this time last year and facing a ‘race’ in 10 days that will require me to run, push, pull and fight my way through obstacles. I’ve lost my mind.
The sad part—I really, really needed this victory this year. I need to prove to me that I have some fight in me, that I can do the unexpected and that I can be more then what I am right now, this minute. I needed to make myself proud and to prove that I could accomplish something. I need to shake feelings of failure and average-ness. Should I rely on a silly mud race to do that? Probably not but I was. Now in my attempts to boost my ego I’ve managed to let myself down even further. Sigh. This is so not what I was going for.