Well, actually, I'm really happy... I went to the gym after work and had a great workout [note to self: /always/ keep a stash of hair ties or an extra bandana somewhere! ugh! hate fighting with my hair!] Did some cardio (depite my iPod being wonky) and then did some strength stuff. I wasn't near as organized as my trainer (duh... his job! need to learn that quick, though!) but was proud of myself for pushing and actually doing it. I was actually shocked at how many people were there on a Friday night! Apparently it's the thing to do if you're not going to the bar... or you get pumped /to/ go to the bar. Not sure.
Anyway, why I'm sad... actually, I'm peeved.
Tomorrow is the El Tour de Tucson. It's a super huge deal lots of big names come from all over to ride, it's a spiffy thing. My trainer, Steve, is riding in it as are a few people I work with... minus one, who, IMO is using an excuse to keep him from doing something great. He's been training for the past several months and has really been looking forward to it. We've talked about our different cardio routines, how he's getting in shape for it, etc. Today, as he was leaving, someone said 'good luck tomorrow!'
"oh, I'm not riding."
"I couldn't do the course in under 6 hours, so I'm not going to do it."
Ummm... just do the 1/2 course.
(as he's trying to escape) "No, if I can't do the whole thing, I'm not going to do it."
And he walked out.
I have never been so disappointed in anyone before. This man, who was the first in his family to not only go to college, but to MEDICAL SCHOOL! He become a Doctor for cripes sake! is letting perfectionism get in the way of being a part of something really cool and really big. It may not be the Tour de France, but hey, it's still cool! And so what if he didn't do the last training ride in under 6 hours, he may do it tomorrow in 5 hr 30 min! But he'll never know what he was capable of now.
It's totally a case of quitting when you're steps from the finish line.
And it's been nagging at me for the last few hours. Not only was I dissappointed in him, but was also thinking of how many times I'd gotten so close to something, only to pull away. Or how many times I didn't even start. It may have been perfectionist/all-or-nothing thinking, or fear, or not knowing /how/ to start, or thinking I had to do it right rather than just doing something, or getting spending too much time looking in the rear view mirror of when I had tried and failed figuring it'd just be more of the same.
Yes, those same thoughts and doubts creep into my mind occassionaly, but right now, I just take them, and toss them on the fire that feuls me towards where I want to go.