I am home from my first 5K run since having my surgery almost 8 weeks ago. I knew I'd be unable to run the 3 miles but I was going to try anyway. I figured a nice slow jog would be perfect for my recovering body.
Yesterday, I rode my bike 4 miles to the yoga studio, took a gentle yoga class and rode back home. My body felt great. I knew this morning's run would be exactly what I needed.
Gem and I arrived at the race site and stood in line to pick up our bib numbers. Somehow I was mistakenly signed up for the 1 mile family fun run instead of the timed 5K.
I was ticked!
I was surprised that I was so upset. Who cares if they gave me a bib that said "1 mile" instead of "5K"? I was still going to run the 5K.
Well, apparently, I cared!
As we crossed the finish line, the announcer said, "And here we have one of our 1 milers crossing the finish line."
Grrr! Are you kidding me?! (I wanted to say.) Like it would take me this long to do 1 mile?!?!
On the drive home, I wondered... "Where is this coming from? I'm not competitive."
But it took everything I had not to walk by the announcer's booth and say, "Hey you! I'm a triathlete!"
I have never considered myself competitive.
One of the reasons I stopped singing was because I grew tired of the nonsense from other vocalists trying to outdo or other bands vying for weekend nights at the club we used to play. I simply didn't care enough to compete. I was doing it for fun.
I have said all along that these athletic events are fun. These triathlons are fun. Yes, the benefits they serve to my body are good too.
However through them all, I only felt that I was competing with myself. I wanted to better my time but I still didn't put that much thought into being competitive.
I'm continually learning more and more about myself.
Earlier last week, Rascal and I were having a conversation about my job. He remarked that I don't talk that much about it. He remembered my stumbling around a description of what I do for a living.
"What's wrong with your job?" he asked me, "You seem to be... not challenged or something."
I had to think about it. He was right. Still, I was surprised at my response.
"Rascal," the tears began welling up in my eyes, "I miss being a badass."
When I was a technical guru, a systems engineer, I was held in high regard. People came to me for help. I was an expert. I had to go to specialized training. I took exams to reach certain certification levels. I made a ton of money because I was good at what I did .
I felt like a badass. I loved that feeling.
Now... I don't like talking about my job. I do a job that feels... below my intellect, below my capabilities, below my experience. However, I can't complain. It is an easy job. It is a job that pays my bills. It is a job that I can leave at work so that I can focus on my children. It is a job that is close to my house.
And there it is again. That competitive streak.
Back in January, I declared to myself, family and friends that 2009 would be The Year of T.
I hoped to do triathlons and find new love and that's what I did.
I'm already making new plans for 2010. I have a feeling that this new found competitive spirit is going to push me even further than ever before.