grand junction sunrise

Running the Gambit

“The emotion that can break your heart is sometimes the very one that heals it…”
― Nicholas Sparks

“One ought to hold on to one’s heart; for if one lets it go, one soon loses control of the head too.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche

“I think of myself as an intelligent, sensitive human being with the soul of a clown which always forces me to blow it at the most important moments.”
― Jim Morrison

It’s been an unusual day. Our girls ride last night was such a total pleasure, fueled by caffeine, so much so that my body refused to shut down until after midnight. A late text from Dave simply read: Trail run LL 6am

Yeah. Right.

But there’s nothing like not being able to sleep properly with the prospect of a friend and a sunrise waiting on you to motivate a little action out of bed. My first words, “I might puke.” Repeated repeatedly. He took it easy on me, and listened to my stories from last night, and more than my share of bitching. I lost track but I’m guessing we did about 4 miles.

So I woke up ponderous, frustrated, tired and ill. By the end of the run I was relatively cheerful, positive, and encouraged.

I did the morning thing- feed/bathe/dress kids, pack lunches, shower myself, send out agenda for board meeting tonight, Dennis off to work, drop off kids…. re-enter some frustration, which was blown away out the top of the Jeep. That’s really why we take the top off of Jeeps. It’s not just because we can and it looks awesome, but I’m pretty sure negative emotions are actually sucked out from the top. It really makes us pity those of you whose cars are permanently enclosed.

I had to take Dave’s camera back to him, consulted him a little on a couple things, then headed downtown to sign bank account papers. Still maintaining a cheerful disposition; which quickly turned to joyful excitement when Sierra texted inviting me to ride Lunch Loop right then. I had a little more than an hour left of my kid-free time, so I was like, “Heck yes!”

I flew home, changed quickly, and met her for a short ride. She offered to help me work on drops and I’m not one to turn down the assistance of someone like her. She’s so patient, and really helped me. She even took a couple of videos of my successful drops. But when it came to the one we had talked about as a goal- one that I even felt I could be “comfortable” with, I couldn’t make myself do it. It was like running into a wall.

Confidence melted into confusion into frustration into embarrassment into fear into tears.

I can’t understand why, why, why I can’t make myself do it. I am physically capable. I have the technical skills. I can visualize it. I can practically FEEL myself doing it. Which leads me to ask the question: what am I REALLY afraid of here? And the terrible answer I’m afraid to say is “Maybe I’m afraid of succeeding.” Maybe I’m just too comfortable with my limitations. I can’t stretch or reach beyond, break the walls and see the light on the other side.

And this idea, that the truth might just be this unspeakable thing, fills me with fear and loathing and dark thoughts. Am I so unworthy? Am I so unhealthy? Where is this coming from? And how do I conquer it?

I was unfit all afternoon. Until I got a little Connor snuggle and was able to at least fake my way into feeling alive again. Board meeting, remember.

Good thing I drove the Jeep with the top off! I was once again recovering, and for several hours my focused attention on the task at hand was precisely what I needed. I could dedicate an entire post to the members of my board and my ultimate respect for each of them. Seriously incredible and brilliant people.

I can’t speak of the single moment when it all turned on me again.  I would be embarrased to admit. A thought or a vision or, and this is the most likely impetus, hormonal fluctuation, sent me completely over the edge again. Like my brain was on fire and there was no way to release the steam from my scorching brains.

Thankfully, once again, the method of travel was a Jeep with the top off. Though I was still visibly upset when I returned home, I was not longer raging. The cool evening air withered the flames like so many leaves bereft of lifeblood in the fall.

And typing this has taken the rest.

It’s time to rest.

Photo May 06, 6 44 29 AM