Rambles Of A Sleep Deprived Cheerleader

I am a sleeper. I almost wasn't. I come from a long line of insomniacs and was well on the way to becoming one myself. Then I went to boot camp. That was enough sleep deprivation to last me a lifetime. To this day, the most needed, restful sleep I've ever had was an hour - face down on concrete - fully loaded with gear in the early morning Florida sun after about 45 hours without a wink. Just in case that wasn't enough to convince my body to hoard rest, a few years later I took a refresher course in sleep deprivation by having a herd of children. I learned that while I could function for years with less sleep, what my body craved for optimum efficiency was nine hours a night, every night.

Now that my children are teenagers (mostly) and heavily into sleeping themselves, I very often get my nine hours. When I don't it's usually my own darn fault - not blameable on evil company commanders or teething misery. After all, no one made me stay up until almost midnight to watch the Lady Vols. And I'm pretty sure Candace Parker and crew did not engineer their nerve-wracking, last (less-than-a) second ONE POINT win over LSU in order to jump start my adrenaline and wreck my chances for sleep. When Nicky Anosike missed and Alexis Hornbuckle rebounded to put it up there for her first score of the whole flipping game, I cheered like a crazy person. Crazy. Person.

I am not an all-sports fan. Baseball, hockey, and NASCAR don't even come close to making it onto my radar. I am truly dedicated to the NFL but only peripherally aware of a couple of other endeavors like college football, tennis finals, and women's basketball. But when I get sucked in, I am totally absorbed. Totally. It took me about two hours to unwind enough to fall asleep last night after the game. (What do you bet it took the Lady Vols longer?) I love the energy of tournament play. Watching all of that practice and dedication unfurl into high-caliber, lay-it-on-the-line performance is inspiring. Motivating. Wrenching when it comes down to fractions of seconds!

My total sack time ended up being less than a third of what I want/need, but if I had to go back in time, I'd do it exactly the same way. I can't guarantee I will still feel that way as I try grind out a 45 minute ride today and struggle to finish writing through a stalled story point, but I think it likely. In addition to still being jazzed about watching such a great game, I've come to realize my experience cheering whole-heartedly for people I don't even know translates into being a better cheerleader for myself. I don't beat myself up saying, "You deserve to be this flipping tired! What were you thinking staying up so late?!" I now say, "Wasn't that fun?! Sure you're tired, but don't you think Shannon Bobbitt was even more tired last night than you are now? She's two inches shorter than you are and guarded a woman almost a foot and a half taller! Did you see her smile? YOU are going to smile that big when you cross the finish line. Go girl!"

Whatever works, right?