Time for some honesty because I’ve got nothing to lose: Toughest Midwest is less than a month away and I’m terrified.
And I’m not ready.
I’m not just saying that as a way to say that I need to buy some more gear. But yeah, I still haven’t bought a wet suit… let alone trained in it.
But I’m saying it because I’m fearful that I’ll get to that start line in Michigan and fail because I don’t feel ready.
I can Jeff Galloway Method my way through the distance. Realistically, I can walk the whole damn way if I have to. But what I’m really afraid of is that I’m going to fail EVERY. SINGLE. OBSTACLE.
And that I’m going to be out there alone. In the dark. Because, and here’s some more honestly, I’m mildly terrified of the dark, even though I’m pretty good at acting like I’m not. And my ability to act like I’m not stems from my attempting to lead by example when it comes to things like fears and not letting them rule me.
But admitting to this fear right now, this is harder than I expected it be. And maybe I’m tearing up a bit as I write this.
I know that I won’t be alone on the course, but I’m also sure that I will be. Because even though Tough Mudder is about teamwork and camaraderie, this is Toughest. This is a race.
When people ask me about my goals, I say that I’m aiming for 10 miles, but 15 is my reach. Because logically, 10 is the length of a TM Full and I can do that.
But what if I get there and I barely make 5?
What if I get there and I DQ?
What if I get there and do nothing but fail?
I keep trying to tell myself that I can do it.
I know that I can do this.
Physically at least.
Because I can put one foot in front of another and move for miles. And I can complete the must complete obstacles (that I’ve seen at Toughest events in the past), and even if I fail all the obstacles with penalties it’s just more distance.
But I’m still plagued by this fear of failing. And that fear of failing is making me afraid of the chance that I might fly.