|Sometimes all you have is a hellacious trainer ride at 11pm.
Do work, son.
“No one ever said it would be easy…they said it would be worth it.” This is one of the reoccurring lines I feed myself on the daily. I’ve been trying to embrace this mantra for years. Try as I may, I really never felt like I got it. I have been faced with disaster, heartbreak, ill motivation (or lack of) and pure unadulterated hatred.
The last few weeks have filled my soul with more than I could ever ask for. The increasing rate at which I ride my bicycle has overcome me. It’s taken over. The fellowship of people who share my love (and addiction) for this sport have changed me for the better. I’ve taken a huge leap…I wouldn’t go as far as saying a “leap of faith”. The jury is still out on that…
I’ve recently started training to improve my fitness and abilities on the bike…mostly cyclocross. I realize I’m not where I want to be and serious efforts must be put forth before I can see the rewards. This is the one sport in my lifetime that I actually have to work my ass off for. I was naturally good at basketball…volleyball…softball. Not saying I never had to practice…but I was good. Cycling, in all genres, has snapped me back into reality. It hurts like a mutha, sucks like a mutha and makes me very angry sometimes. The joy I get when I see small improvements is enough to keep me coming back.
I thank my glorious friends for allowing me to tag along during their cycling endeavors. Mostly, I thank my brother for making me a tough girl, teaching me the joy of “dude sports” and dragging me around as a kid. He planted the seed and my amazing cycling family is fostering serious growth. Big things are going to happen. You’ll see.
I’m still in an emotional standstill with my job. My heart is confused. I love medicine. I love helping people. I love the freedom that my job comes with…but something isn’t adding up right now. I can’t put my finger on it, but there is a huge disconnect. I desperately hope I figure this out soon. It’s like the lights are on, but no one is home.
|The face of confusion|
As most of my close friends know, I’m a terrible decision maker. I have a tough time with commitment and I agonize over the smallest decisions. I don’t ever want to wonder “what if” and regret choices I didn’t make. I also hate dealing with the heartbreak of knowing my decision didn’t work out the way I had hoped. It usually takes me a while to recover from a big disappointment, and even longer to recover from a epic train wreck as a result of a very poor choice. I know I probably set myself up for most of this, but I watched my mother fall apart when things didn’t work out her way. In all fairness, I got it honest. I just didn’t make any efforts to squash it as I was growing up.
I talk about the last year of my life fairly often…the change that occurred in me was monumental. I became a solid rock, a confident human and one bad ass woman. Of course, on the inside I’m still a scared, naive little girl. My outer shell reeks of cynicism, apathy and independence. I learned to depend TOTALLY on myself. I became confident in the person I grew up to be…finally in a place some people only dream of. I guess it’s time to step out of my comfort zone once again. If I spend the rest of my life safe from the outside world, I’ll never grow. I’ll stop learning. I’ll become stagnant. It’s not going to be easy, but nothing ever is. The easy stuff sucks. The easy stuff doesn’t make you strong. People who can’t handle life fall back to the easy stuff. I’m not that person anymore. So here I go…