So I'm still thinking about the triathlon. I have lingering fears about group exercise -- I blame them mostly on unhappy PE classes where I was always the smallest. Well, no, that's too simple: I think it also had a lot to do with coming from a non-sporty family and feeling perpetually behind the curve, whether in swim lessons or football spectating. I am still surprised when I have fun exercising with other people. But really, that's the way I am most likely to have fun exercising.
Two years ago, one of my college roommates floated the idea that the five of us should do a women's mud run. At Amy's suggestion we registered, a little skeptically, and then spent months chatting at Map My Run about our preparations. It doesn't take long to log a workout; it doesn't take long to click like or leave an encouraging comment. It's a quick and easy way to say, "Hey, I see you showing up and slogging through. Way to hang in there!" It opened the door to more frequent email conversations about the rest of our lives, and we had a surprisingly great time splashing in the mud. In college we listened endlessly to the early Melissa Etheridge albums, and so the backs of our team shirts said "Somebody bring me some water!"
In 2015 Amy was diagnosed with breast cancer. While she wasn't up for competing in this year's triathlon, she came to cheer us on. One of my other roommates suggested that we dedicate our efforts to her; the rest of us agreed, of course. We made secret team T-shirts with different Melissa Etheridge lyrics on the backs, this time from her song about breast cancer. At dinner before the triathlon we told Amy what we were doing and gave her a shirt of her own.
I do not know whether I would have done the triathlon without my roommates. I could not be any more certain that I wouldn't have enjoyed it as much. It was really discouraging for me to keep working and working on my swimming, wondering when (if?) I would ever get better. Knowing that two of my roommates had taken or were taking adult swim lessons prompted me to think, "Hmm, maybe I am not actually too bad at swimming to sign up for lessons." (<- That is an actual thought thunk by February Jamie and March Jamie, alas.) When my skeptical self was what-if-ing in the run-up to the event, I could trust that my roommates would understand if things went awry. Because I am an inveterate what-if-er I would think, "What if I'm the ONLY ONE of the roommates who doesn't finish?" Because they have been my friends for almost 29 years I could then think, "They will love me anyway, and understand that I am disappointed."
Do you remember when I was so freaked out about my first 10K (PELVIS SHRAPNEL!!) and then I had a glorious day? The triathlon was the same thing all over again: 'WARE THE INVISIBLE KRAKEN --hey, wait a minute, that was awesome and I want to do it again! Maybe I could be less angsty if I accepted that I am angst-prone Maybe I'll try that. Whether or not I can ever quiet the brain weasels, it's important for me to stay connected to people who are being transparent about showing up and slogging through.
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