I’m the girl who claims to love living in the land of scared sh*tless.
But today, I have to call my own bluff. Sure, I’ll ride the world’s largest zip line, lay down my bike in a motorcycle class, move to Costa Rica and learn to shoot a handgun from a 70 year old Vietnam Vet they call Jim Bones… but lately [I’ve noticed] it’s the seemingly small sh*t that puts me sideways.
Here’s what I mean:
- I realized this weekend I’m terrified of riding my bike down a steep grade. I’m not sure if I was hyperventilating or trying to starve my puking mechanism, but either way, if I can’t figure out how to get down a freakin’ hill without crying, passing out or riding the brakes, there is no way I’ll make my start line in Austin.
- I have an epic fear of falling off my bike. (But it seems the higher up peeps are helping me “handle” this one because it keeps happening without my consent.)
- I never talk about how fast or slow I run because I don’t want to be compared to those who are better, faster or stronger than me.
- I never worry I won’t finish a run, a swim or a ride, (a marathon taught me that), but I’m forever focused on, “You’d better keep a little gas in the tank, sister.” (A marathon taught me that, too.)
Here’s why I’m sharing this. (And it’s not for pity, so keep reading…)
Yesterday, Hubs and I had our first swim lesson with a tri-coach. As I was driving over to the facility, I had a complete meltdown. “WTF are you doing?” I asked myself. “You’re so bad at all of this. Not only are you slow as sh*t, but you can’t get down a hill to save your own a**, you’re constantly falling off your bike and you couldn’t pass a tadpole class if you had fins. Why do you even bother?”
In the last 24 hours I’ve been thinking a lot about that question, “Why do you even bother?”
Here’s what I’ve come up with:
I bother because I want to live a remarkable life.
The truth is I will never, in the history of my time on the planet, be the strongest, fastest, fittest, or richest. I’ll never speak the most languages, never be President of the United States, never take home an Olympic Gold Medal and never raise a kid who grows up to be the next Nelson Mandela. I’ll likely never see space, never visit Comoros, and never own a BMW X6. (Although stand by on the X6, I’m working Hubs pretty hard.)
But that doesn’t mean I can’t live a remarkable [to-me] life.
To me, remarkable, (yes I’ve said the word a dozen times now), means chasing big goals. Looking fear in the eye and giving it the proverbial bird. It means doing sh*t I never, in a lifetime full of years, thought I’d do. It’s doing stuff no one else thought I’d ever do, either. It means not quitting when the road gets long and the journey gets rugged. It’s saying screw you to the old you and hitting a few mind-blowing, “Oh hell yes I did!” milestones.
Right now, my personal brand of remarkable happens to be tied to finish lines. But I’m not sure that will always be the case. Looking back, I can see I’ve done a lot of fabulastic things in my life – and all of those holy cowza-to-me accomplishments came about because I was willing to get out of my own damn way and do sh*t scared.
So, today, I’m going back to basics.
I’m going to continue to ride my bike down steep grades knowing that every ride, every digger, every puke and every squeeze of the brakes will get me closer to 70.3 in October.
I can’t say I’ll ever LOVE falling off my bike, (come on now), but I’ll embrace when it happens, tell you about it, then move on.
I’m no longer going to worry about my pace. If you want to connect with me on Garmin to see how fast or slow I run – send a request (via Garmin) to BrookKreder.
For every speed workout for the rest of this year, I solemnly swear to bring the heat, (and the stink!) and ride my legs/lungs ‘til they both run out of gas. Only then will I rest knowing I’ve done enough.
And finally, every day I’m going to care a whole lot less about what others think and put a hell of a lot more stock in what I think.
Before I go, I want to issue you a challenge. What in your training scares you? Where are you playing small? What do you need to get over to get to your, “Oh hell yes I did!” mega-milestone? Come chat me up at www.Facebook.com/BrooksFirstMarathon and we’ll continue to conquer scared sh*tless together.
P.S. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this real with you — thanks for listening. (You know I love you, right?)
P.S.S. Today I only have one request. If you haven’t yet joined my Sole Sisterhood, (it’s free), consider this your VIP invitation to join me, along with 1000s of other women, who are committed to living bolder, playing bigger and taking a NO EXCUSES approach to reaching their monster goals. See the blue box below for deets.
P.P.S.S. And today, because I said I would, I left it all on the trail during my 7 mile run. It.was.awesome. (Hey, and a girl can’t b*tch about the view, either…)