fear

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I started reading yet another YA dystopian fiction book a couple of days ago; Divergent by Veronica Roth. I haven’t finished it yet, but I’m loving it so far. Anyway, there’s this great part in the book where Tris, the main character, is discovering what it means to be Dauntless (one of five factions). She had always imagined the Dauntless to be fearless, but the reality is different:

“I used to think the Dauntless were fearless. That is how they seemed, anyway. But maybe what I saw was actually fear under control.”

Recently, someone asked me what I was afraid of and there wasn’t really anything that came to mind, barring losing people I love. But as I thought about it more, in the context of the quote above, I realized that I am actually afraid of a lot of things. The difference is I don’t let it control me. Or at least I try not to.

A couple of weeks ago, I signed up for a running class in an effort to get faster. As soon as I did it, I regretted it. I know I’m a slow runner, but I don’t worry about it because I just go by myself and no one is paying attention to how slow I am. But then I had to go and sign myself up for a class that was going to put my slowness in the spotlight.

Last week was the first week. Work was crazy. I didn’t bring my running clothes with me because I thought I’d have time to go home and change. In hindsight, I think this was my subconscious way of getting out of the class. And as it turned out, I didn’t make it. I did the workout later. On my own. In the comfort of anonymity and solitude. And I was relieved.

Now, I’m an adult. I have a job. I pay my own bills. If I want to throw perfectly good money down the drain because I’m too scared to follow through on a class that stretches me way outside of my comfort zone, in theory I can do that. In practice, however, I can’t.

So this week, I made sure I was ready to go (it helps that my coworker is taking the class with me…it also hurts because she’s a much faster runner than I am). And it was every bit as scary and difficult as I thought it would be. And unlike soccer, I didn’t discover that my skills are actually much better than I anticipated. I was just as slow as I thought I would be. And yet, at the end of the class, I felt good for facing my fear and just doing it.

Does that mean I’m excited for next week? Of course not. But will it be a little easier to at least want to do it? Let’s hope so because I’m doing it either way.

exactly what i needed

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This weekend I was supposed to be running a half marathon in Philadelphia with my lovely friend Anne. Sadly, neither one of us was really in a good place to do it…both struggling with various injuries. Thankfully, it would appear that my calf is almost back to normal, but running a half marathon probably would not have been the best idea. So, instead, I decided that it would be the perfect weekend to go visit Anne in DC before she and her husband move to Africa for the next two years.

Best. Idea. Ever.

Anne texted me on Thursday to ask me what I wanted to do. My response was “Nothing”. I’ve been to DC before and done the tourist thing, but I live in the most touristy city in the US and the last thing I wanted to do was push through crowds of tourists to see sites I’ve already seen. Thankfully, she was on board with that. So, we suburbed it up all weekend, which included going out to eat, going for a walk to get ice cream, laying by the pool until it started raining, and a little window shopping. It was lovely.

I realize that my life is filled with girl time and I have the most amazing girlfriends, but there’s something that I really appreciate about my happily married girlfriends and the time I get to spend with them. I think sometimes it’s so easy being single and having a bunch of single friends to create this fantasy about married life. (I know all of you married ladies are laughing right now, but try and remember what life was like when you were single…try and contain yourselves.)

And despite what you all might be thinking, it’s not because it makes me realize how great my single life is…I generally appreciate that. I think it’s that it gives me hope and makes me realize that it’s worth waiting for that guy who really wants to be with me and appreciates everything I have to offer. My girlfriends have all married great guys. None are perfect, nor are my girlfriends, nor are their marriages, but they are good. And they are happy. And isn’t that worth waiting for?

Um, on top of all that, I just love Anne. She’s one of my favorite people. And while we weren’t able to run the half marathon this weekend, we did relive some great St. George memories and we made plans for our next race: Casablanca, Morocco in October 2012. My goal was to run another marathon next year and doesn’t that just seem dreamy? I’m trying to convince her to run the Great Wall Marathon after that, but I’m not sure she’s going to be having it.

Oh, and we also planned out the next 10 years of my life. But I’m going to go ahead and keep that to myself for now…but I’m kind of excited! Such a lovely weekend with such a lovely friend.

impact

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This has nothing to do with this post, other than I took it today.

Today, my church put on a street fair on the upper east side. They do it every year (I think) and I decided to stop by to say hi to Jenn who was volunteering there. As I was getting ready to leave, I saw a woman out of the corner of my eye who looked so familiar. It only took me about two seconds to realize that it was Kendra, a friend from my first summer term in college.

I walked up to her to say and hi and was happy to see that she instantly recognized me. She has been living in the city with her husband and kids for the past seven years. It was great hearing about her life and catching up. She asked me if I was still in touch with anyone from that summer, to which I responded barely, followed by, “That wasn’t exactly a great time in my life.”

She reminded me that she had been in the same boat. At the time, her parents had been going through a divorce and she was feeling pretty insecure about the whole thing. And then she told me that it had been so great to meet me at that point in her life because, having survived my parents’ very drawn out and ugly divorce, I helped her to see that life doesn’t end just because your parents get divorced.

Unfortunately, I think we are rarely able to see the impact that we have on the lives of others (for good and bad), so it is so nice when we do get to see it, or at least be told about it. I’ve had some pretty crazy things happen in my life, and I often think about how those things have impacted my life personally, and the person I’ve become as a result of the craziness, but I don’t often think about how my ability to share those experiences with others can have a real impact on their lives. It was great to be reminded of that today. And it was great to reconnect with Kendra because she is so fabulous.

an adventure in the catskills

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Yesterday, my friend Michelle and I decided to get out of the city for a little adventure in nature. Michelle decided we should hike Wittenberg Mountain. In her Catskill Mountains guide book the hike was rated as difficult. We joked about how a difficult rating for the Catskill Mountains would probably be like a moderate hike in the Rockies. As we set out, I was thinking that maybe the people that rated the hike had actually done some hiking outside of the Catskills and knew what they were talking about.

About 30 minutes in, we discovered we were on the wrong trail. We decided that we would head back down and get on the right trail since that was the hike we had planned to do. In the process of figuring out where we were and where we should have been, it was also discovered that the trail we were on was rated as moderate…this made me a little nervous as I was wearing running shoes and felt ill-equipped (both in actually equipment and physical shape) to hike 3.9 miles up on a trail rated difficult. But I just smiled and followed Michelle down to the right trail head.

What the guide did not share with us was that we would actually be doing a little rock climbing. And the rock climbing is after you’ve already hiked uphill for about 3 miles, so you are tired, but too far up to throw in the towel. And you think after the first wall that that has to be it, but you would be mistaken. Three walls later (the book refers to these as “scrambles”…I think because if you were to fall, you would become scrambled like an egg), we finally were on normal hills again. And then we reached the top. And it was TOTALLY worth it.

This was the first of the “scrambles”…not sure the picture does it justice, but it was serious.
I wish this picture did justice to just what an amazing view this is…I also wish I could have capture the lightening storm we could see in the distance. But, unless you hike this yourself, you’re just going to have to take my word for it. AMAZING!

Of course, the hike back down was hard, as well, but a different kind of hard. Besides just being a killer on the joints, I managed to twist my ankle and trip multiple times (running shoes and serious hiking do not mix) one time almost ended with me falling face first into a rocky stream…except for a lovely tree that broke my fall. It really was quite the adventure and one I would actually repeat.

Once we got down, we decided to stop in the little town nearby and get dinner…which was also an awesome experience. Sadly I did not get any pictures of the multiple tie-dyed outfits I saw (Phoenicia, where we had dinner, is about 13 miles from Woodstock), but trut me when I say it was impressive. Talk about a perfectly spent Saturday. I couldn’t have asked for better.

working it out

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So appropriate that Mother’s Day is this week. As mentioned in the last post, I’ve been having a bit of a rough go of things. And this bit has kind of lasted a little longer than a bit. And I was starting to worry. Which obviously wasn’t going to help. You never solve a problem through worrying. So, life kept going. I tried not to worry. I let myself cry. I knew it would eventually get better. I started running in the mornings with the lovely and talented Jenna. I tried to get more sleep. I tried not to eat my way into feeling better. All of this helped, but then tonight, I feel as if a switch was flipped…

Once upon a time I was a little girl with a very active mother. She had always been pretty athletic and she decided to pass that along to us; swimming, softball, tennis, soccer, basketball…the list goes on. During my MBA program, I thought about taking a soccer class to refresh the skills, but I was a little intimidated as one can only be by zoobie undergrads and their overachieving, still youthful ways. So I didn’t. I wanted to play on an intramural team, but also didn’t because I wasn’t sure if I’d be good anymore. And we all know I’m just a wee bit competitive. 

A couple of months ago, when I was in a better place (mentally). I found this coed adult recreational soccer league. I was too intimidated to try and join a team, but I put myself on the mailing list for the next time they held classes because I was feeling adventurous and pretty fearless. And then last week, in the depths of my despair (don’t I sound dramatic), I get a little email from NY Coed Soccer informing me that new classes would be starting this week. While the actual thought of taking the class with a bunch of strangers scared the crap out of me, there was this little voice inside me that told me to just do it. This would be exactly what I needed.

There were two classes offered. One was very basic: passing and receiving. The other was more advanced: aggressive ball handling or something. My uber competitive self would not allow me to sign up for both for fear I’d suck it up the first hour and then not want to be there for the second, so I didn’t. 
Yeah…not so brand loyal, am I?
Tonight was the first class. To say I was a little nervous would be a bit of an understatement. But, I’ve done scary things often enough to know that after the first few minutes, life goes on, I start breathing normally again, and no one will have actually tried to make me feel like an idiot. And tonight was no exception. In fact, about 10 minutes in I was already wishing I’d signed up for the second class. It was so fun! And I met some new people. And I had more soccer experience than anyone which meant I didn’t feel like a total loser. And I didn’t worry about how good anyone else was or when I messed up because we really were all there to learn. 
On the way home from Brooklyn (yes, I haul my arse all the way to Brooklyn for this class), as I was cooling off from our little passing game, I realized that not once during that hour had I worried about my “problems” or felt even an inkling of depression. I was so focused on the technique and the drills and the game that there was no room in my brain for anything else. And I had all those endorphins pumping through me…which I’m sure didn’t hurt.
While, during these down moments, there is really nothing I would like more than to have my mom around to tell me everything is going to be all right, “it always works out,” it sure was nice to at least have her influence pushing me to do the things that she knew would make for a happy child. I’m still her kid, after all.
P.S. If anyone in NYC is interested in joining me on a coed team this summer, I’d love to have at least one person join me. Just let me know!