Giving up has never been something to boast about, but it faces us at certain times in our lives and challenges us to either stand up to it and succeed or let it overpower us and mark us with defeat. About one year ago, I faced not my biggest failure, but definitely had some challenges that tried damn hard to make me fail. In the end, I probably did. But now I have a second chance. Even though I am much happier now than I was a year ago, it doesn’t make me feel any more prepared for something like success.
Last year at this time I had just broken up with my boyfriend and was avoiding the task of learning how to move on. We had been on the verge of the outs for an amount of time, so it could be considered an expected event. Learning to be alone though, that is never something that you can prepare for. Training-wise, I not only set my expectations so high, but I set them as if I knew I would fail. I hadn’t trained for the race, thinking that I could run another 3:27 like I did the first time. I guess I didn’t figure in a time prediction that added a minute per pound that I gained since then.
Thinking back to the race not only defeats me, but it puts me right back in the heartbroken and slower spot that I finished the race in. I hung my finisher’s certificate on my wall, forcing me to read it every day; forcing me to remember what I did to deserve that. Sometimes it can pump me up, but mostly it disappoints me.
This year should be different. I have reconciled with boyfriend, and we maintain a strong friendship that should motivate me this year instead of crushing me like last year. I have been training more and more, some mileage increase but mostly intensity. As I prepare to set this year’s expectations, I think back on the mistakes I made last year and how I have changed in order to hopefully avoid the same outcome. I still have my expectations set up for defeat, but with the prior knowledge of it. I don’t learn from all of my defeats, and I don’t always improve or succeed the second time. But I do get to go into it in a better mental and physical state; and that gives me hope.
I stumbled upon this funny blog post on the natural enemies of runners. They are not only funny because they are true, they are just funny. Check out the great post!
Little snippet:
“2. Your Ipod Shuffle
Few things will torpedo your run faster than a bad song coming up on your Shuffle. You’re clicking along at a nice pace feeling good and suddenly “Brick” by Ben Folds Five comes on. Before you can frantically stab at the skip button your gait has slowed, you’re feeling melancholy as hell and you just went to step out into traffic.” (taken from website)
The ambiguity of this blog is set up for a reason. Please be advised and when you see “…” please whisper to yourself that’s what she said… On that note:
The first time is always awkward. And of course, you are never prepared. Everyone knows how it’s going to turn out, and what stories can possibly develop from it. You just want to get in, get out… and see ya later.
I was a little sweaty; mostly hot and bothered though. I had my change of clothes with me; I was here for business- no pleasure. I didn’t exactly pack anything else; I figured it would all work itself out…
When I walked in with my bag, I had to figure out a place to put my stuff. I looked around with my bag, timid and shy, almost giggling to myself to break the silence. I wasn’t quite sure where I was going to place my bag. It’s strategic. Too far away, you have a long time and distance to walk embarrassed back to your stuff. Too close, it gets in the way. You have to be prepared to gather your things if you somehow get walked in on, but it needs to be far enough away that nothing gets “soiled” in the process. I set my bag down, and seriously contemplated if I was even going to go through with this. I felt pretty dirty, but was I that dirty?
I had cold feet, I will admit. Just the thought of my nakedness being so close to my work environment; how would you feel? It is hard to deal with the lack of eye contact you don’t make once back in the office, the constant blushing, the anxiety that you are being talked about at the water cooler when you re not there. It’s hell, and it could be avoided. But, oh the sweat…
First things first, you have to check for cobwebs. You don’t know the last time it was ever used. There could be things crawling around that you forgot about. (When I finished, I found spiders… I know; exacerbates the awkwardness). OK, back to the beginning though. Foreplay. You gotta make sure its set up just right. Bottles are handy, testing the waters to make sure it’s just right…. It won’t be, you know that, right?
Trying to heat things up is NOT a smooth move the first time. It’s all cold and gives you the chills, so you barely want to get wet. You fiddle with the valves but damn it, still cold. You stand there naked, halfway in because it’s not hot enough yet, eff, it’s not even getting warm. Fiddle this, fiddle that… bam! holey moley!! Burn! Somehow the pressure hit just the right spot and yikes! Now it’s too hot. Oh well, it will have to suffice; remember, its business.
Keeping this as clean as possible, I will yadda yadda over some stuff…
The worst part is when you are finished with everything and you think you are gradually cooling down again, lowering the pressure. But remember how it went straight from freezing cold to scalding with no warning? Well, just like that, the cooling off has the same effect, except when you escape the scalding, you get the last bit of pressure released right into your face as you are reaching to turn everything off. You don’t expect it because you are not thinking about it, but one word of advice- close your eyes!
I didn’t have a towel afterwards, so the wetness had to be endured on my body so uncomfortably as I scrambled to find any old thing to wipe off the excess. Then, covering what I could with what I had, I managed to get all my clothes on in record time, as if everyone in the office was watching me. I had no makeup, no brush; it was going to be like the walk of shame all over again. At least this time I could spend the walk back drying off instead of remembering what happened. I had nothing to hide this time. People would see my ruffled hair and smeared makeup… it was going to be talked about. So I packed all my stuff back up, took one last look around to make sure it was as I had come in (save for the cobwebs) and I snuck out; closing the door as gently as I could so as not to disturb anyone. Walking back, I ran my fingers through my hair, thinking it would cover up the evidence. But, it didn’t work with my mom, it wouldn’t work here. I had left my shoes on the entire time and they were all I had, so it made me uncomfortable for the rest of the day having to remember the experience every time I took a step. Next time there won’t be any surprises.
