Triathlon. A word I never gave a second thought before three months ago. In fact, it was one of those words I tried to push from my mind as fast as possible because just thinking of training for one made me want to dry heave almost as much as thinking about my accomplishments compared to those of people who compete in triathlons. Nope. Swimming, running and cycling were not my thing.
Fast forward to today. I am a triathlon training beast! And when I say beast, let’s maintain perspective. I can only push my recently sedentary body so far. But let’s not downplay it either because I’m putting forth some major effort here! Every durn day I’m out there doing something. Run a few miles here, bike a few miles there, almost drown everywhere. Variety is the spice of life!
So, what changed to make me okay with doing a sprint triathlon? Why am I putting forth more effort to train for this blasted thing than I’ve put towards almost anything else in the last 10 years? Seriously, for years I’ve been telling myself that I am an “aspiring writer.” No offense self, but I think you actually have to write some stuff to maintain that weak-sauce title. I’m pretty sure aspirations have an expiration date and mine spoiled a long time ago.
But I like to write. I mean I definitely like to write more than I like to run. So, why? Why is it that I can get out there every dumb day and run, ride or swim, but I can’t sit down at my computer and get the words I have bouncing around in my head down on paper? I’ve been thinking about this today. You see, today was a hard day. Today I felt helpless. The Hubster is sick and he’s overwhelmed by his unrelentingly stressful job. Today I wished I had made my aspirations a reality a long time ago so that The Hubster wouldn’t have to carry the burden of supporting us on his own. Days like today feel like a shove, or actually more like a sucker punch in the back, pushing me towards being greater. Better. More. Just get your crap together and make junk happen! But here I am writing this instead of working on one of my novels. Here I am airing grievances instead of being productive. And tomorrow I’ll run or cycle or swim or do all 3 and probably won’t write a word. Why? I’ll tell you why. I have reasons, I do! I will suffer through the misery of training for this triathlon because it makes my body look and feel better. I’ll suffer through it because there is about a 50% possibility that I will take at least 3rd place on race day (that’s probably a generous guesstimation.) I’ll suffer through it because I have a support group of friends that are training right along with me and we can commiserate. But with writing, I don’t have writer friends to bounce ideas off of. Obviously, it won’t improve my physique. And writing is much more competitive than a triathlon, so my odds for success are greatly diminished by comparison. In a tri I only have to beat people of my gender that are in my age division. Hello! Why not level the playing field in publication too? Honestly, I can’t compete with the George R. R. Martin’s of the world!
But my biggest holdups are more personal. The main reasons I don’t just write the crap out of those books are simple. Fear and insecurity. That’s right. I’m a yella-bellied sissy. If I ever finish writing my books, the next step will be critiques and submissions and edits, meaning other people will have to read them. That terrifies me. Just thinking about it makes me feel exposed and vulnerable. What if I’m like one of those contestants on American Idol that thinks she can sing like Celine Dion, but in reality she sounds like a pinched balloon squealing as it deflates. I don’t want to be that person. But then again, I don’t want to live a life of regrets and unmet potential either. You know that old motivational bull squeeze, “You’ll never know unless you try”? There’s something to that, I think.
So, it’s time to be brave. It’s time to be like those courageous, yet still hideous singers that audition for AI. It’s time to treat my writing like a triathlon. My triathlon motto is “Tri Not to Die”, so I think my writing motto should be “Write before You Die” (which could be 2 weeks from now if I fail at the former.) But seriously, I don’t want all of these words in my head to be buried with me!
So, let’s do this! Let’s write a book! Or two or three! I can find a support group of writer friends. I can hone my craft to increase my odds of getting published. I can improve my looks in written word (because in reality writing leads to excess snacking and general immobility.) Yeah, I’m extending my aspiration expiration date! Game on!
Buuuuuuut, I think it can wait until after I win my triathlon. Welcome to my list of excuses, Procrastination. Let’s be friends.
