Sometimes when I'm nervous about a situation I tell myself "what is the worst that can happen?" or "whatever happens here, there are def worse things in life".
I'm sure you can remember a moment when you felt anxious and had to calm your own nerves, sooth yourself, and maybe even lie to yourself a little to avoid a panic attack. Am I right? Of course I am.
Last night was my first running class and admittedly I was quite nervous in anticipation. During the work day I started my familiar mind games (I play mind games with myself, and I like it). I told myself that it would be fine, that there was nothing to worry about. I made a mental picture in my head.
I asked myself:
Self, didn't you remember to bring your running attire to work so you can go straight to class?
Self, don't you know exactly where to go for the first day?
Self, don't you have ample time to make it to the class and won't you be extremely early?
Having answered all of these questions correctly and realizing that I can be condescending even inside my own head and then feeling a bit of pride over that fact, I took a deep breath. And I calmed down.
It was short lived, however. After a minute or two my mind began to race all over again. I can be so rude to myself sometimes, you'd be amazed. For all you moms out there, I can only compare it to this: you have a cranky baby, you finally get the baby to sleep, you place the baby in the crib and walk away, you sit down and take a breath and relax for about 1 minute and then the baby starts screaming all over again. I do not have any children but I am a big sister and a lifelong babysitter. I think that makes me an expert in these matters. Anyway, yes, in the scenario my anxiety is the baby.
So I decided to pull out all the stops and move to the next level of calming myself down. I ran thru a list of "what is the worst than can happen". It went something like this...
Really, it is a running class for goodness sakes.
If I'm late I will simply try to catch up with the group.
If I miss it all together, I will just skip it and go next week.
If I can't run as fast as the others and they vote me out of the class I will simply go back to running on my own after the coach gets my digits.
If I'm freezing in my long-sleeved-tee in the non-Indian-summer-weather I will warm up as I run.
I will eat a banana on the way to class so I don't get starvation hungry as I run.
I will be sure to use the ladies' room prior to class (for obvious reasons).
If the hunky coach pushes me really hard and I start feeling faint as I'm running, I will go sit down and be fine in a few minutes.
If I trip and fall I will sprain my ankle and scrape my knee... or tear something... or hit my head... or break my nose.
Oh gahd.
I hope someone helps me get home.
Or to the hospital.
Or to the morgue.
Oh gahd.
I might die.
That is the worst that could happen. I really hope that doesn't happen. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Whew. That won't happen. Of course that won't happen, what am I thinking?!
Don't worry blogland, obvi that didn't happen or I wouldn't be typing this right now. And I did calm myself down again quickly. And I laughed at myself. What's better than laughing, right? All in all the worries brought me laughter and I can't complain about that.
In reality not one of those scenarios occurred. The class was much easier than I expected and I'm debating moving up a level for next week. But, there was one scenario that a little bird (June To The C Leaver) warned me about and I didn't even consider. Remember when I imagined my running class here and imagined slash assumed that my coach would "be gorgeous, single, way into me" etc etc (yes, I just quoted myself)? Well, my coach was a woman. W-O-M-A-N.
So, even after all that time and energy I invested in worrying, I didn't even imagine the true worst that could happen possibility. That my coach would be the opposite of a the ideal man. My hopes are dashed. I am downtrodden. What is the world coming to? Since when is it ok for women to coach sports? Why did we do this whole feminist movement? To wreck my dreams? Women should not - NOT! - be allowed to coach (and neither should unattractive, married, gay, or taken men for that matter)!! It isn't right. How is an Uptown Girl supposed to get motivated to run in these conditions? How??? It is shocking and unthinkable.
What is an Uptown Girl to do? Find inspiration in blog-reading of course. The girls over at Run Til I'm Fun are about to complete a marathon. And they've been training and preparing. They are inspiring me one mile at a time. Go on over and wish them luck on those 26.2 miles! And after you finish, please find me a hunky male running coach. It is the least you can do.
No comments:
Post a Comment