When Your Best Isn't Good Enough

Just a warning...this might seem a little whiny or self-centered...hey...it's my blog...there you have it. For those of you still reading, just let me explain this post. This is going to be a gut wrenching (for me anyway) look at the old me vs the new me. I need to talk this through an be able to see the progress that has come about even though the end wasn't anything like I imagined.

The Beginning The Middle and (almost) The End

Twelve short (or long depending on ones perspective) weeks ago I started training for the Fargo 5K. It was a big deal. I have never run in my life. That short lived 8th grade track team experience does not count....as I was only in it for the hoodie! I have been using the Couch Potato to 5K training guide and have had tremendous results. That, coupled with my bi-weekly Phatty Nattie classes, has transformed my body from flabby and unhealthy to firmer flab and a lot more energy. I am able to run a continuous 30 minutes on the treadmill (important to note the word treadmill here) and not keel over and die. I am able to keep up in my classes to...which until recently....I was unable to do. But that is not where the transformation ends. My attitude...my mind set...the things am sure I can not do...all of those have changed. The old me (the me of 12 weeks ago) gave up a lot easier. The old me was stuck, completely, in the All or Nothing philosophy of my youth. You know...if I can't do it ALL (that applied to every area of my life) and do it ALL perfectly, I can't do any of it. A very self-destructive and and demoralizing way of being. I didn't do it deliberately...not all the time....sometimes I'd just see someone doing it better/faster/prettier and give up. Other times I'd get so bogged down in all the little details that I'd get frustrated and quit trying all together. And there were times that I'd be cruising along doing really well (especially battling my weight) and mess up one day and quit because there was no point in continuing....I messed up...therefore I had blown it FOREVER! Crazy, I know...I'm not sure how I missed seeing the crazy before. But I'd like to be able to say that that was how Old Me coped with failure and disappointment and a perceived lack of fabulousness on my part. I didn't hold others to such insane standards....why did I expect perfection of myself? New Me (who is only 12 weeks old and still has her downy-yellow-fuzzy feathers) is tired of feeling like a constant failure. When I started to train, it was hard to give myself permission to not be a perfect runner. I did stick to the training schedule like a religion at first. I knew in the beginning it would be easy for Old Me to take over and give up if I missed a day of running. As I kept achieving small goals...running 10 consecutive minutes....then 20...and finally 30 the voice of Old Me was harder and harder to hear. There were times when I only ran 2 days in a week instead of the recommended 3. But New Me just recommitted to 3 for the next week and moved forward. I really thought I had achieved New Me Nirvana....I thought for sure that Old Me had been pushed aside far enough not to crowd New Me. I was ready to try my hand at running outside. After all that is where the race was to be held. Not, unfortunately, in the relative safety of my basement. I was ready. I could do this! Only problem was...it was raining. And it rained for 2 stinking weeks. Well, it did give me more time on the treadmill....but it didn't prepare me for the aching reality check I was about to experience. One week until race day I laced up my sneakers and headed out to try my run in the glorious light of day. The road around Lake Alice is 1.1 miles. Three laps would be just over the 5K distance and I knew I could run at least 2 laps....after all...that is how far I was running in 30 minutes on the treadmill (at an approximate speed of 4.5). Easy-peasy. Or NOT! One of my BFF's and a very big reason for the sudden interest in running a 5K volunteered to run with me. She too will be running the same 5K with her daughter and hubby (not her first race either). We started out strong. I timed my pace to the song "Papa Loves Mambo" by Perry Como (off the Ocean's 11 soundtrack) just like on the treadmill. Good grief...a quarter of the way around...I. Can. Not. Breathe. Literally....I am wheezing and gasping for air. I started to panic a bit. "What the hell is happening"...I wonder to myself (or maybe out loud...I honestly don't remember). I have to (and I mean have to) slow to a walk to get this under control before we have a MAJOR freak out. Heather is very supportive and tries to keep my mood light. I hoped she didn't see the panic, self-recrimination and doubt laying just below the surface. After I was merely panting we started to run again. No dice...more wheezing, coughing...sputtering. Heather was great. "Shake it off" she recommended. We finished the 3 laps and I went home in mental agony. What had gone wrong. Why was I unable to run outside. Looking at the lake in my mind...I just felt like I should be able to do this. The tree lined street, the beautiful sweet smelling lilacs, the baby geese...all cheering me on...why was I denied? Old Me came to the front of my mind. "Give up!" she demanded. "You can't do this," she accused. Little, young...unsure New Me tried to fight back. "Maybe," she pleaded. "Next time could be different," she encouraged. On Tuesday night...I tried again. I did get farther around the lake...but not even one full lap...really...not even half. We finished our 3 laps...walking most of it again and I headed home...trying to ignore the voice of Old Me yelling inside my head. I will admit to shedding a few tears. I ended the day on my knees in prayer. Not praying to run...praying to not give up. I need strength to continue with this farce of a goal. Old Me knows I will fail...she tells me that constantly. She is unrelenting in her torment. New Me is just strong enough to be heard over the commotion. "Try"...is the only advice she has to offer. I will be running tonight. One lap is the goal. Just one....I've got to find the air for one tiny little lap. I've also got to find a way to not panic. So what if I don't run the whole race...right? Will the world stop spinning, will my friends and family be disappointed? No...so why all the big deal?? Just because that was the original goal does not mean that the goal can't change...right? I'm a mess in my head. I've got to get it straightened out before I drive myself crazy. I can't start out defeated...or I will be. How does that quote go...? "If you think you can't you're right"...something like that. So for today and tomorrow and race day....the mantra will be....JUST TRY. No one can fault you if you do the best you can. And if my best isn't good enough...I'll just have to train harder and kick it's ass next time. The only one telling me I can't....is me....she's a mean bugger, but I think I can take her. So that is the end. That is all I can do. Try. I'll let you know how it goes.