I am probably one of the most uninteresting people I know. Probably not the best way to start a blog–but its true. I’ve experimented with liking a lot of things and trying to “be good at” a lot of things. Because– let’s face it–everyone likes to be good at SOMETHING. Even people who say they aren’t competitive at all like to have the best tasting casserole at Thanksgiving that everyone is raving about. Everyone likes to show off a skill at some point. Whether you’re the best couponer, the best dressed, or you’re hammering out reps at Crossfit–we are ALL a little competitive.
I’ve been competitive for as long as I can remember. My mom probably doesn’t remember this, but I distinctly remember being the shy kid in my Girl Scout troop. One day we were tie-dying shirts. I positioned myself in the back of the line, waiting as everyone dipped their swaddled lumps of rubber-banded creations into the bucket of dye. I remember my mom being frustrated by my passiveness. “Are you going to be satisfied with a faded, washed out shirt? Because that’s what you’re going to get in the back of this line.”
Now I don’t remember busting through the crowd to the front of the line or anything. Rude! But I do remember mom wanting me to be more assertive. I still struggle with those things and competing in running events over the past 8 years has helped. Over the past 37 years, life has been full (to the rim) with ups and downs. If my life had a happiness chart, it would look something like the one below.
So what does this chart reflect?
1) I had an amazing childhood
2) I made a BUNCH of learning mistakes post-high school (don’t most people? Okay don’t answer that)
3) Things rebounded in my 20s and I started to “find myself”
4) All things crashed and burned at age 36 and there wasn’t a gosh darn thing I could do about it .
5) I AM the comeback kid
So, why am I doing this? Why am I blogging? I don’t even like the word blog. I suck at writing. I attempted to go back to college at the age of 35. My writing teacher ripped me apart EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. For months. I wrote a kick butt paper about Spider-Man and she might as well have spit on it. I think she gave me a 50 on it. It was almost like she was trying to send the message that 35 year olds shouldn’t be writing about super heroes. I swear, I despised that woman…
So the fact is, my best friend bought me a journal for my most recent 50 mile race. I brought on the trip but didn’t touch it. Fate stepped in. I broke my shoulder and so here we are…
So, to back up–
1. Yes. It was a 50 mile foot race (in 1 day)
2. Yes. I broke my shoulder, and
3. Yes. I did those 2 things simultaneously
Impressed yet? Don’t be. This hair ain’t impressive. The lack of clean laundry in this house is not impressive. The smell of the trash in the kitchen because I can’t pull it out of the can is not impressive. Me wrestling the cat with one arm trying to give her her meds is not impressive. It’s all rather ugly. So I guess I can blame my latest adventure on life and its way of slowing me back down.