I apologize for the dearth of posts, but I haven't had a lot to say lately other than the usual blahblahrunningblah. Which, is only kind of true. Clearly, I have a lot to say, I just haven't had the time or attention span to sit down & compose actual blog posts.
I volunteered again with TBF Racing, this time for their 50/50 Endurance Event. I ended up being assigned to a spot near the completion of the last five laps of the race. It was amazing to see how fast some competitors were. It was also amazing to watch everyone push through. It was a small field, and a fair few ended up dropping out. Fortunately there were no serious injuries.
It was interesting getting to chat with other volunteers, and even the emergency medical staff, who was patrolling on an Arctic Cat.
As you know, I mailed off my registration for their 6 Mile Trail Race Challenge. I think I'm possibly more scared now than I was before this weekend's event. I am so afraid that I can't do this. Or that I'm going to finish last. Because the next two events (the 8 Mile & the 10 Mile) happen so quickly after this one, I know that my performance in the 6 Mile Challenge will largely demonstrate what my performance will look like on the subsequent races.
I am terrified of being mortifyingly bad. And there's totally a war in my head about whether or not I should care. Because, honestly, I know that showing up and doing my best, regardless of the outcome, is light years better than other people will do because they don't even show up.
I know that I'm not that fast & I don't go that far, and that's ok because I'm just getting started & I'm faster & can go farther than all the people still on their couches... But I guess I feel like, when I show up to a race, I'm showing up for all the fatties. Because I know, really, that's what people see when they see me standing there with my bib number. They don't know me. They don't know what I do or where I've come from or where I'm going.
I know that there are those people who will judge me based on my size. And, yes, I do feel that, if I don't do "well enough", I'm just confirming all the preconceived notions they had when they saw my fat ass roll out of the van.
This is why I wish so much that I could get out of my head. When I trust in what my body can do, I'm ok. But when I look in that mirror and truly see what's still there, all I've got is doubt.
And that is an ugly place to be when you work as hard as I do.
Right now, I don't have a lot else for you, so instead of posting about this ad nauseum, I'm just kind of quiet. Hopefully I'll shake out of this sooner rather than later.