Wednesday, October 1, 2014

What makes me tick - Volume 3 - Athletics (Part B)

Continued from the first post...

Am I in love with a sport I don’t stand a chance in?

I have huge confidence issues with my athletic performance. If you’ve read this blog for any length of time  you already know that. I’m constantly self-depreciating with my results and abilities. I think “I suck at____. “ probably comes out of my mouth more than any other statement with regards to this topic. I really do kind of suck! Even if I am sorta-maybe-kinda good, I kill it with my shitty mental attitude! SHITTITUDE!

The thing is, I’ve seen results that have surprised me but in the same sentence I’ll turn around and say, “yeah but it’s still not good enough.” I see the average speeds these girls are holding for the duration of the race and question how that’s ever going to be possible for me. I'll never be good enough. Look? There's those words again!

Some of these races are truly beyond my abilities often with a lot of climbing and that’s something I am absolutely terrible at. Despite my days of hill repeats and challenging climbs I still suck donkey dicks.

I’m afraid to push myself physically because it often leaves me feeling… nauseous. What the hell else is new?

I don’t know if it’s my anxiety with races that hold my performance back when doing them or if I really am just destined to never do well. It’s hard to find out where I stand. Some of my personal bests should translate to powerful results in the field but I never produce. I want to say I have the potential but I’m cynically pessimistic. I want to say that I can get on top of this and be the driver (rider?) of my destiny but that’s not me either. I'm an asshole to myself.

All of this means that I am left ridden with anxiety daily with regards to my training. To the point where I refuse to even use the word “training” sometimes. I resort to riding for the sake of riding. I know what you're going to say, (in my head I hear a nasally naggy tone, no offense) "but that's what it should be, just ride for the fun of it." It's what I tell myself but to be a bike racer, I mean, a really good bike racer there is nothing but hardcore training. That's the only way.

The issue is this though, it bothers me how many times I use anxiety as my "out". I brush off social events and outings. Dinners, coffee dates, festivals and even career moves. I've become comfortable telling people to go fuck themselves (in a nice way). Subsequently people are getting used to it. That bothers me. I mean, I'm happy that I look at an invite and can dismantle my feelings towards it. I don't even entertain the idea of going as a possibility. It's just off the table entirely before it even registers with my desires. Somewhere deep down inside though, I'm crying.


For me to feel this way towards racing? To just slough it off and say, "Not gonna do it because of my anxiety." just makes me feel like a fucking idiot. Like a fucking cop out. So that's why I keep trying to defy myself.

also?  

There’s just one thing, and this is really fucking important so pay attention before you retort in ways I can already foresee; I really, REALLY want to race. In the few moments I’m in that whizzing field of bikes it’s the most exhilarating thing I’ve ever felt. That’s why I keep trying. That's the motivation that's stifled by the anxiety. It's all to just experience that feeling time and time again.

BUT.... sometimes I need to be real and let it go also.

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I wrote this a few weeks ago and now that I'm going to hit the publish button I'm all like, what's the fucking point? Not what's the fucking point in publishing but what's the fucking point in wanting to race. Life will go on. I've got to let the dream go. The more anxiety I get day after day due to weather and working and commuting that all contribute to me NOT getting on my bike and making up excuses... the more I just want to walk away.

I let it all affect me too much. I let the responsibilities of life get in the way. I let the hellish commuting put me in such a miserable mood that I cry. Last night after one of the worst days of commuting both ways plus the dreary weather in addition to a rather awful day at work, I came home and laid on the couch unable to move. I was stuck with anxiety and stress and depression. I laid there so upset. If I was home alone I would've gone to bed. No shower, no dinner no nothing... just bed. I didn't though which is probably a good thing.

I let that happen. It's me. There should be no excuses but I am so broken mentally that I can no longer ignore that and just get out there. The darker evenings, work stress and longer drives are hurting my desire. I can't do it. It's more stress than it needs to be and it's entirely self inflicted.

Someone said to me recently.... "you have to take care of yourself first."

Myself needs to disappear. 

2 comments:

  1. I just want you to be happy, regardless of how you define it. You are worth whatever it takes. I support you... no conditions.

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  2. If there's one message that comes across in this post it's that there are good days and bad days. The last part (after the row of dashes) shows the suckiness of it all, but the first part, where you discuss the exhilaration of riding, is the happiest thing I've read on this blog in a long time. From my standpoint, I know the feeling -- I feel it every time I lace up the skates, strap on the helmet, and inevitably turn the puck over to ther other team (or fail to collect it at all).

    But if I had a choice of living a rollercoaster life of really good and really bad times, or a life of consistent, predictable mediocrity, I'd choose the first one. It's a lot more interesting, and it gives something to look forward to. I hope you don't quit.

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