Blessed

As I write, it is 4:45 a.m. June 21st, 2012 which, I guess, makes this the longest day of the year and the first day of summer. These two facts are the bread to my sandwich of fear and self-doubt. I woke up worrying about the bike rental for the sprint-tri event: will it be a jalopy? Will it be too big? Will I need to fix the seat? How am I going to do that? Up to now, I have focused my anxiety on the swimming part of the event. It hadn't occurred to me that the biking part might also be my undoing. Plus, the traffic runs on opposite sides of the street here which results in a few tourist casualties, I'm sure.
And the swimming. Lord, the swimming.
When I began this blog six months ago, I think I confessed that I had finished last in a few events. I think I also confessed that I have always had a kind of hope for athletic success that would result from all of this hard work and training, that at worst, I would have my "Breaking Away" moment. I am back to thinking that I will come in last or not finish, or not even start. I have to do a lot of self talk to return to the origins of wanting to do the event in the first place. I will complete the event. Repeat. Ego out of flow. It is not the result that matters in an event which hasn't happened yet, right?




I am a reasonably fit person, mainly from running this eclectic array of races, as you can see. At a boot camp class last year, I was asked by a young woman, maybe 25 years my junior, "Ma'am, are you okay?" The word "ma'am" in itself is an affront. The idea that I would have come across in the class as not okay was more offensive to me. I guess from appearance (read: greying hair) I might be what some people think is polite to call ma'am. It is true that I was a little out of breath and trailed the group during our running segments. In combination with the ma'am, though, this concern really rubbed me the wrong way. This is a nice way of putting it. Ego again?
Yesterday, here in Lovina, Bali, a young girl named Ari was trying to sell me some bracelets on the beach. She is 12 and will probably never leave this place, but she asked me my name and how old I was as if we were peers, a seasoned beach vendor, Ari is at 12. She didn't expect that my answer would be 100. I did not, however, feel patronized in her sweet inquisition. I am so blessed and fortunate to be here in the first place and Ari reminded me of this.




This project has gone from the challenge of signing up and finding swimwear to an all out assault on my confidence at times. I am still in the middle of it, and I suppose just finishing the event is reward enough. This comes from a person who no longer buys lottery tickets because I am genuinely disappointed when I don't win.

Maybe I am not the non competitive person I thought I was.

Happy summer.

- Posted using BlogPress from the iPad that has come into my possession.

Location:Lovina, Bali