On Being Smat

What I forgot to account for/mention yesterday was that Sunday night I was violently ill in the middle of the night. I was panicked that having finally gotten completely over the sinus thing, I'd somehow caught the stomach flu. Luckily it seems to have been a one off event, not an actual illness. Between the sheer ickiness of sicking up and the resulting lack of sleep, I started yesterday at a serious disadvantage. Physically I was out of sorts and then emotionally I got my feet knocked out from under me. I played catch up (rather unsuccessfully) the rest of the day.

Today I am in much better form. I've slept and kept all of my food down; it's still raining but 25 degrees warmer than yesterday (ahhh, the vicissitudes of Spring); the kids have gotten through the roughest part of the readjustment to being back home and I've gotten some one on one snuggle time with each of them - yes, even with the 15 year old who loves back scratches; and finally I've had time to process IronWil's post (that I linked to yesterday).

Upon reflection, the most interesting tidbit (to me) about yesterday is that once again I got smat. (Thanks RBR for the delicious yet technically incorrect past tense form of the verb 'smite'. ) You see I've been reading ThroughTh3Wall for a month or so now. I'd learned about Evotri, read some race reports, and been impressed with her the way I am with a lot of elite-to-me athletes. But until yesterday's completely unexpected post, I hadn't thought about her being ... human, vulnerable, challenged in any way? It smacked me upside the heart yesterday that occasionally I have a serious issue with bassackwards ego stuff. It's that interface between the universal and the specific that seems to reach out and grab me. Like a drama prone teenager, I automatically and subconsciously assume no one, anywhere, could possibly understand me. I don't mean to assume that or act from that place, but there it is. I do. Often enough anyway to irritate myself when I catch myself at it.

Everyone has inner demons and hidden hurdles. I know this intellectually. I even know it emotionally, sort of. And I'm not a hierarchical person particularly: I don't have any need to one up in a game of "my obstacles are rougher/tougher/higher than yours." (In fact, seeing folks without limbs or eyesight breezing past me in races - which has happened several times - puts whatever obstacles I think I have off to the side for a while.) But all that said, it literally stunned me to have someone tell their own personal story in such a way, that I felt like she could tell my story as authentically as I could tell it myself. Wil's bravery of putting the details of her experience out there, the resonance I felt to recognize shards of my experience in her words, and the fact that I had so arbitrarily marked her as an unapproachable, unrelate to-able (is that a word?) person - all of that synthesized into one powerful smiting. My expectations ended up upended. Again. You'd think I'd LEARN not to make judgments. Still working on it.

So. I'm off to swim. And bike. And think about registering for some races. You know - maybe have a "season" instead of an event. Y'all are rubbing off on me! It's a good thing. I think.
Happy training to all.