Two weeks ago I wasted all my time being completely distracted. I laid out my sled bag in the middle of the playroom and walked by it 1,000 times without a single contact. I saw it was there, but I denied the obvious. Every time I looked at it, I sank lower and lower into the dregs of inadequacy and doubt. I'd think about putting something in the bag and then rebel against the thought of dealing with it.
As my anxiety grew, I immersed myself in risky behavior. I shrugged off responsibilities. I forgot to make arrangements for kid care, I didn't feel like making dinner and I didn't do things I said I was going to. I remember feeling , "I should be..." and then immediately thinking, "F--k it." I checked out and found myself unprepared for work. I stayed up too late and back-talked my family. I had this big thing going on in my head involving a sled and 100 miles, but I couldn't quite get it grounded.
This week, the adrenaline rush of "I can do anything" hit. I found myself blasting, loud, obnoxious music from Eric B. and Rakim to Pearl Jam. Intense, powerful feelings of unrealistic confidence blasted through my body and I did so many sit-ups and pull-ups and push-ups I was sore for 3 days this week. I just had to do something with the arrogant, cocky vibes coursing through my veins. I'm not brave enough to share the self-centered, heroic, ass-kicker thoughts that constituted my daydreams.
My daughter actually commented that I was driving a little fast on our way to school this week. I was too busy belting out Katy Perry lyrics while simultaneously crying for Kikkan Randall's Olympic disappointment. I GOT THE EYE OF THE TIGER, A FIGHTER, DANCING THROUGH THE FIRE,CAUSE I AM A CHAMPION AND YOU'RE GONNA HEAR ME ROAR! I hadn't noticed.
Last night at the pre-race meeting, I giggled nervously throughout the night. I heckled the speaker to my neighbor and made funny jokes about how I was gonna win and start up front and so on. I felt like the new girl at the first dance, like I didn't belong, afraid I was going to do something stupid or worse yet that someone would detect my insecurity. My bag was WAY OVER WEIGHT and so, as I feared, I revealed my rookie status for all to see.
But today, I took care of my bag business and got my ass into gear. I'll take a little of the infallibility of the teenage mindset with me and unpack the insecurity that weighed down my bag. (Thanks wise guru).
I think this entry reads well with the following cranked in the background.