First and foremost it was the most physically and emotionally brutal thing I have ever done. My feet were not ready and by mile 6 of the Super I was done. Completely done. I knew I had completed over two thirds of the race at this point and was still at the point of not caring anymore. In the middle of the woods on some trail with stumps and roots and rocks and mud and ditches and a team waiting on me I yelled out… “@#$# this race, @#$# a Spartan, @#$@ a Trifecta, I am DONE!” Then I realized the only way to actually be done would be to get to the end. There was no rescue team, there were no flares to send up, it was me and my own strength to get me to the next obstacle. I made it there completely beaten, feeling like a failure as I had for the last 3 miles, and a team mate asked me what was wrong.. the response to my whine was a snark, which was deserved. Here I was at mile whatever it was, almost 8 by this point I think, on the last 6 obstacles of 28 and I was still a fai...
My heart talks to me in a Dory voice, my brain doesn't.. my brain sounds more like Nemo's dad Marlin. My brain is always grumbling and telling me I can't or I will never be good enough or it hurts way too bad or I am fat or .. there are so many OR's that it is not even funny. Very much like Marlin in the movie, everything was always gloom and doom. My heart says just keep swimming, swimming, swimming or running, running, running or BREATHING BREATHING BREATHING. Whatever the occasion calls for. (recently at bootcamp it has required all of those and then some). My heart wants so badly to be more than I am, to not be the one in the back, to not be the one the rest of the team is constantly waiting on in push up position, to not be the one who's foot feels like glass just split the bottom of it open again and tries to get off of the shells... cont. Side Bar on Foot: it hasn't split open just truly felt that way, the only way I can describe what my foot f...
Let me tell you about my best friend, I do suppose the first thing I need to tell you is that he is well a he. Most girls I know their best bestest friend is a she, not me, but as he will quickly tell you I have never been one to exactly follow the rules. You know how when someone asks how long you have known your best friend and it feels like your whole life so you just say "oh forever", I am lucky enough that I actually have. He has been there through good things and bad and never once did I ever question how much exactly he loved me, even when he didn't particularly like me very much. I am sure when I was younger there were times he thought to himself "Lord what in the world did I ever do bad enough to have to put up with this?" I can't say I can blame him cause there were times I was really not the nicest person in the world, but not once did he ever give up on me. Oh, who am I kidding, he has probably thought that recently. I can say with complete...
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