Sprained Ankles Suck

So, why is it that only DAYS before Longhorn I roll my ankle while diligently doing my 30x30s this morning? Sure, I probably should have went to the park where the lighting was better - but, I wanted to take advantage of the rolling hills in the neighborhood. Seriously, where else in Houston can you get hills right outside your front door? ARGH!

All this after a great final training weekend. I rode a portion of the course with Heather and Penny. I felt great and the hills weren't that bad; it was a huge confidence booster. Now, I'm hobbling around the office in flip flops and grabbing a ice pack.

Fear

Fear is an odd thing. When life begins, you are a small child without knowledge of danger. You are able to run headlong into life without fear because of this blissful ignorance. As we grow older, we become more hesitant to take risks because we have learned of the danger. Is fear really natural as we are not born with it?

Over the years, I have faced my biggest fear. Oddly enough, I did not discover my fear on my own. It was mother who most accurately detailed it many years ago. Looking back, I realize that she was right (as mothers most often are). It amazes me that, even at such a young age, I behaved in a similar fashion.

Life changes when you experience your biggest fear. It is in these moments that you have the option of giving into despair or forcing yourself to grow stronger. I do not know if I was benefited by not experiencing my fear more often when I was younger. Sure, I faced it; however, I did not expect to experience it.

My biggest fear - failure. It is a dirty word; one that can shake me to my core. As I've advanced in life and competition has become more fierce, I've experienced failure. It is never pleasant. Never rewarding. Never comforting. And certainly never satisfying. Yet, it is always motivating.

As Longhorn approaches, I become fearful. I question my schedule, training, and (sometimes) the lack thereof. I cannot make excuses for the mistakes that I've made in training. I can only learn from them for the next race.

My goal is merely to finish the race. I now question this goal. Is finishing a worthy ambition? If I set my standards higher, would I have found a way to meet them? Is there any benefit in present when a real decision must be made?

Has my fear of failure overtaken me? Am I too afraid to raise the bar and see what may come? I now yearn for the blissful ignorance of childhood.