Day 146, 100 pounds lost.
I woke up feeling a bit introspective today. I do that a lot. The very nature of my analytical self will pull everything apart like string cheese. I want to know the “why’s” of everything; not because I question it, rather I earnestly want to learn and grow. I started wondering, why is trying new things so scary?
I was sitting at my computer Friday when I got a message on my Facebook from a friend that said I should sign up for this event called “Memorial Day Murph.” I wasn’t 100% sure what that meant, but I quickly found out. It’s a workout that consists of:
1 Mile Run
100 pullups
200 pushups
300 squats
1 Mile Run
*Gasp*. There is no way I could do this! Seemingly in an instant, my heart rate sped up, my hands got sweaty, and I felt anxiety. I can’t do it, physically I can’t. I can’t run, I have never been able to run because of my knee. Even just walking that mile TWICE might be hard without a fresh shot of steroid injections. The fear, at least for a bit, was almost numbing. The creature of comfort in us tells us to fear new things, seeing it as a polar opposite to our own safety. I decided… I might pass out if I attempted the above. After some talking in too and the promise of being able to modify and do what I could, I decided to sign up, but I was still scared out of my bonkers. If the whole idea is simply to show up and do what I can, then what was the problem? Why was I so afraid?
We don’t want to try new things because we worry about floundering as beginners. We don’t want to try new things because we might be “bad at them.” In reality what we are really saying is that we don’t want to look bad or stupid. That’s what it is right there. I am more afraid of looking stupid in front of people than I am walking out onto a cliff and jumping into the unknown. I can jump off that cliff alone without 100 eyes staring at me.
I signed up anyway and was lucky enough to talk my bestie into doing it with me. Together, we can probably figure out a way to finish everything but in the end, it doesn’t really matter does it? The whole point in my journey is to show up. There is still fear – and it’s raw because I feel it. But I still need to show up.
I’ve been trying to flex my bravery muscle more and more. I found myself in an interesting moment yesterday where I couldn’t have felt dumber, but I know that I am balancing exactly on the stepping stones to which I should be, according to the the legend of my life.
Will there always be that voice within all of us that says, “Am I good enough”? *smile*… Don’t believe everything you think.
Am I wrong? ????
Lovingly,
Bean
