Stumbling, Slumping, Waiting…where the hell am I?

I stumbled across a lot of things today that I think kicked my ass enough (or encouraged me enough) to start doing the things I love again. The first was a post by Brittany Herself. She wrote about Fear and Honors Algebra¹. The second thing was a video that someone posted in a Facebook group I’m in. The group is about getting our shit together. A lot of us have physical goals and one of the members thought this would brighten our spirits:

Sure, Joanna seems a little wacky prancing around the neighborhood, but she’s having fun and doing something she loves.

And she reminded me of myself a little.

Back when I was afraid that people might laugh at me or criticize me for doing things that make me happy, BUT I DID THEM ANY WAYS. Yeah, that’s right. There was a time, not too long ago, where I did things any ways.

I wore dresses. Ragnar-Peeps-300x225

I’m the one in the metallic green dress.

I rocked the race AND that dress. Let me tell ya, there’s nothing like being cooped up in a van for 36 hours, with six other runners, and running a relay that’s about 200 miles long – in a dress². YAY! For the Ragnar Relay!

MFP Mud Race Web

 

I raced a mountain bike in my tutu…through the mud. In fact, I raced an entire mountain bike season!

I smiled a lot that year.

Sure, there were practices, and races, where I cried and got lost, but there were also ones where I found my awesomeness.

I may have cursed, crashed, and even quit one of the races, but I finished the whole damn season and I did it all in that tutu.

I dyed my hair pink and wore the heck out of my CurlformersBeFunky_TheMFP3

I seriously love those things. Perfect freakin’ curls. Every single time.

I made a few YouTube videos with my kids:



I posted fun things on Facebook and held give-aways too!

And for a while, I was fine with what ever the world thought of me. Until I wasn’t.

But as Dr. Seuss says,

“And when you’re in a Slump,
you’re not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted.  But mostly they’re darked.
A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out?  Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right…
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it’s not, I’m afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused
that you’ll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place…”

Well, I’m tired of The Waiting Place and I’m really, really tired of not being me.

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¹Okay, Brittany didn’t really write about Honors Algebra, but she did write about how if she would have never stuck herself out there, she wouldn’t be doing all the cool things that Brittany does.

²There were actually multiple dresses. I couldn’t pink hair 2spend the entire time in one sweaty, nasty prom dress!

 

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