Day 4: Breathe in, breathe out...

So how pitiful am I?  The last time I wrote anything on here was 151 days to the Mudder.  And now it's 4 days away.

4 DAYS AWAY.

Not sure why I took a sabbatical from writing.  I love writing.  Maybe it allowed me to let the Mudder slip far back into my subconscious where I didn't have to think about it.  And worry about dying and all.

I used to proudly tell people no one had ever died doing the Mudder, but tragically, the self-proclaimed "toughest obstacle course on the planet" claimed a life last year.   http://www.runnersworld.com/general-interest/witnesses-report-slow-response-in-tough-mudder-death?page=single

It's the first death in the three years the Mudder has been around, and estimates are that there have been 750,000 participants in those events.  The article above points out that marathons average one death per 100,000 participants.

So chances are good that I won't die.  Better than good.

I confess I was on the fence about going through with it.  Probably more than on the fence--you could say I had already climbed back over the fence, packed my bags and was headed home, but I have really great teammates who reminded me that we're in this thing together, and that's exactly how we'll get through it.

And I also did what I do when things seem overwhelming and scary:  distracted myself with something fun.  I find this works pretty well in all areas of life.  Maybe it's not the most grown-up way to deal with stressful situations, but hey, whatever works, right?

So my Mudder Death Distraction came in the form of a pair of angel wings, a fluffy white tutu, and a halo.  I picked up my angel costume to wear on The Day Of, and it's supercute.  Sure, it won't stay white for long, and will most likely be shed not long after crossing the start line or fall victim to some terrible obstacle course barbed wire or pit of mud.  Either way, it's easier for me to think about how cute we'll look in our pre-race pictures than how much grit it's going to take to make it to the finish line (which is on the other side of one of the most brutal obstacles:  Electroshock Therapy.

I don't know what possesses most people to run through live wires, or jump into a container of ice cold water, or crawl under barbed wire through the mud, or run the 10 miles in between.  I can say that most of the Mudders or Mudders-to-Be who I know are bada$$es, through and through.  The kind of folks who can just wake up in the morning and decide to go do this thing, or even to go kill this thing.

Not the kind of person who worries and frets and whines via a blog for a year (actually more!) about the the possibility of dying facedown in The Mud.

So why?

It started out as a way to get through a really tough time.  If I can run through fire, I can survive anything, right?  That was the thinking anyway.  I needed a bandage for a very broken heart, a guidebook for surviving in a new reality, and a distraction from all the voices in my head that constantly questioned how I'd make it.

Along the way, though, it changed into something much more.

I've never had to do anything hard, and aside from fairly recent events, have never had anything bad happen to me.  I'm a lucky girl for that, but I've also never been called on to be tough, to prove my worth, to push beyond my limits, to show myself and everyone else what I'm made of.  I've never had to.  Life has bee pretty easy, mostly.  Easy is relative, yes, but I have a loving family, a wonderful daughter, amazing friends, a good education, a job that I love.  I've never had to work too hard for anything, and while I certainly appreciate that, I also feel like something's missing because the path has been easy.

I have said from the beginning that I want to be a bada$$.  And I know some certified bada$$es who've earned that distinction for various reasons.

When I get home from Crossfit complaining about being sore, my kid asks "well, why then do you do it?"

Because I was the kid who quit everything when it got too hard who grew up to be that adult who quits everything when it gets too hard.  I'm tired of being that kid.

So for me, the measure of BadA$$ness isn't that I make it up Everest on the first try (yeah, right!), but that I show up, and I finally follow through on a promise I made to myself  over a year ago.

I get sappy a lot; folks who know me know that.  And I have no trouble sharing the sap.  Well, I caught up on my season premiers this weekend, and I was struck by something the wonderful writers of Grey's Anatomy said:

"We're all gonna die. We don't get much say over how, or when. But we do get to decide how we're gonna live. So do it. Decide. Is this the life you wanna live? Is this the person you wanna love? Is this the best you can be? Can you be stronger? Kinder? More compassionate? Decide. Breathe in. Breathe out. And decide."

So you just have to decide.  To live the life you want, to be the person you want to be.

And I've decided.

See you on Saturday, Mudder.