Last night I couldn’t sleep due to fear. Earlier my son casually asked when I was going to practice the whole course of the Endurance event. Wait, what? I’m suppose to do this whole thing more than once? Isn’t the idea of the challenge a sort of one and done? Yeah, I know I want to participate in more events, but we are talking twenty seven and a half miles here. How often am I suppose to do that? When will I have the time? Oh NOOOOOO! I am struggling to run five miles. What am I thinking? I can’t do this. This is crazy. I’m truly gong to die. There I’ll be, out on the water after biking up the never ending hills, floating slowly down because I overestimated my abilities. I won’t only miss the Eagles kick off, I’ll miss the four o’clock game as well. Wait, what if there are rapids and I can’t control the boat? What if I totally miss Smith Beach? How big is this river anyway? When am I going to eat? I mean it is obviously going to take me more than seven hours, I get hungry. And I’ve had ten pound babies (well one, my son was only a little over eight), when am I going to pee? And how am I gong to keep my sneakers from getting soaked as I languish in the kayak for hours? Do I just run in wet sneakers? That can’t be good. I think there is definitely going to be chafing. In places I don’t want there to be chafing. And then as I was laying there not sleeping I realized that I was never going to sleep the night before the race. I still have trouble sleeping on Christmas Eve and I’m Santa!!!! It’s just so exciting thinking about how happy my children are going to be. I am going to be over the top with worry and excitement on September 6th, the day before. Yeah, so I will probably be exhausted to boot.
Finally, I talked myself down. Around midnight or so, after a restless tense sleep and tossing and turning. The alarm went off around five and I turned it off. I was tired. Two nights in a row with no sleep, the reality that I am not super Michelle, and just plain old fear. I want to give up. Look, I’ve come a long way, I’ve developed two new passions in biking and running. I want to get faster, get stronger, go further. I’m not giving that up. But, seriously, I don’t kayak. And regardless of what everyone seems to think, it is not going to be the easy part of the race. I’ve been on the floor with my broom practicing, I know that it works your core and your legs. There is no break. How can I do that for three or more hours?
I want to do this. I don’t want to do this. I am afraid. I really don’t think I am going to be able to practice the course through once, even though I wanted to. Even though it was in the original plan to at least see the course straight through, even in pieces, I just don’t have the time or money to do that. I want to end this post on a really happy, come to wonderful realization that I can do this sort of peaceful joyous space. But I’m not there. So, as I’m counting all the places that this new fitness thing has been hard, the part that is the hardest is getting past my own head.
Okay, I can do the bike ride. The worst case scenario is that I have to push my bike up a hill. The kayaking is down river, so hopefully I will have enough of a current to help me along, but not so much that I can’t control it. And if that happens, well, maybe I’ll at least get to the Eagles by half time. And if I really have to, I can walk the three miles, but I don’t want to . Because walking the bike up the hill, or walking the three miles is failure to me.
Breathe, Michelle, breathe.