It’s ok to for things to not be ok. It’s also ok to not be ok that things are not ok.
Performance wise, I had a terrible race weekend.
I did get to run with some of the best in the sport, and spend time with some of my favourite people, doing what I love best.
So really, it was a phenomenal weekend. But am I totally ok?
Nope. No I’m not. And I cannot convince myself otherwise.
The Super on Saturday morning featured some added frosty-dewy challenge. I slid off the balance beam and then rig. Then I missed my spear. At the rope climb, I grabbed a rope that was coated with thick gooey mud and shot right to the bottom. 30 burpees at the finish line and my first failed rope climb. I dropped from second to fourth. Sunday in the Sprint Race, I choked on the balance beam and then missed my spear.
So many burpees.
The awesome thing about obstacle racing is that you always go home with homework. Something to improve. A way to make yourself a better athlete.
In that sense it’s these races that teach us the most. These ugly times where we cross the finish line with burnt-out triceps and stains on our chests, that offer us the most.
But they still suck. And I’m ok with that too.
If we jumped the fire 120 burpees down and with any sort of indifference, we wouldn’t go home with the same lessons: the same drive to fix the chinks in our armour.
We need both the sting of loss – and the appreciation for it’s honesty to drive us on.
My oldest daughter starts kindergarten this week. And to be perfectly honest, I have trouble embracing it. But a good friend pointed out how much one-on-one time I’ll have with my youngest and how many great times lie ahead with my growing munchkin.
In the mud, and in life, I guess it’s ok to not be ok… so long as you keep moving forward.