A Glimpse Into the Future

With the encouragement of a friend, I bought a Groupon for circus school.  I foresee comedy.  Contortion ought to be entertaining.

Skip, Skip, Clap

“You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do.” - Eleanor Roosevelt

Remember the President’s Physical Fitness Challenge in elementary school?  It was the “test” we had to complete in P.E. class to see just how fit we were.  Well, I was that kid who had to walk-run the mile and whose teeth chattered uncontrollably while doing the flexed-arm hang.   It was my horror.  My parents quickly dismissed whatever dreams they had of having a superstar basketball/volleyball/tennis (insert any sport here) player and just hung onto the hope that I would do well enough on the test to avoid being held back in the fifth grade due to my inability to hang from a monkey bar for the requisite amount of time.  Truth be told, they probably set aside their athletic aspirations for me when I got low marks in preschool for being unable to skip and clap at the same time. 

Thirty years later after years of diligent training, I can skip and clap at the same time.  I’ve even taken on quite a few athletic challenges in the past several years. My theory is that these physical challenges are our generation’s answer to the midlife crisis.  Back in the day, a midlife crisis meant Uncle Jack bought a Porsche.  In the new millennium, we don’t need no stinkin' Porsche – we have to prove to ourselves (and sometimes to others) that we can complete some event requiring athletic prowess.  Not only do we train for these events, we even pay to participate in them.  That’s right, we’ll spend hard-earned money on equipment, training, travel, clothing, and registration fees.

At present, I know two people training for the Ironman, Guido just finished a ½-Ironman, people training for half and full marathons, several friends doing century bike rides, a friend who spends his weekends careening down mountains on his bike, and others training for triathlons.  Yet, in my entire life up until the past several years, I never knew anyone who trained for these types of activities.  I guess it was hard for my parents’ friends to do these things while holding a martini.

I will never forget the night I announced to my family that I was going to train for and complete a triathlon.  Guido and I were eating Tex Mex with my parents and I announced that I wanted to do the Danskin sprint triathlon in Wisconsin.  They all sat their forks down and stared at me in disbelief.   Had I lost my mind?  Didn't I remember elementary school?  My dad finally gathered his senses and asked me what I had to do to complete it.  I confidently explained that I would swim ½ a mile, bike 12 miles, and complete a 5K.  He didn’t say anything else and we finished dinner.  When we got in the car and drove away from the restaurant, my dad told me to look out the back window.  He drove a ½ a mile and told me to look again, because that’s how far I would have to swim.  Admittedly, it was a little scary to see that kind of distance unfold before my eyes.  The good news is his tough love act didn’t deter me; I looked fear in the face.  I trained for and completed the race with one of my dearest friends at my side (she, too, is athletically challenged).  Neither one of us are runners by any stretch of the imagination (read: if you ever see me running, please call the police because someone is chasing me), but we ran the last stretch so that it would look like we were running in our finish line photo-op.

One thing I have noticed about myself and others who train for these events is we don’t give ourselves enough credit.  These races are sort of like Festivus.  We complete the feats of strength and then proceed with airing our grievances.  For the most part, none of us are ever completely satisfied with our results.  We seemingly dismiss the fact that we just finished something for which most of us were not naturally designed to conquer.  I suppose that is what pushes us to train for the next event.  Whether it’s the amount of time we take to finish something or our lack of finesse in getting to the finish line, there’s always something that disappoints us and makes us want to try harder.  As I reflect on this topic, I think it’s a shame that we don’t bask more in our accomplishments.  Almost all of us are full-time desk jockeys with limited time to prepare for these races before and after work.  We should be proud of ourselves that we’re able to make it to the finish line and not disappointed that we didn’t get there as quickly as we hoped. 

So, the next time I take on an athletic challenge, I promise to remember the little girl whose teeth almost rattled out of her head while hanging from the bar as Ms. Hazelwood timed it.  Instead of fake running across the finish line, I am going to skip and clap!