Surrendering Stinks Sometimes.

It is funny.  I was perfectly okay with this weekend.  Better than I thought I'd be actually.  The Olympic Trials were a touchstone in my surrendering the life of an elite distance runner to devote myself to motherhood.  Before and during the race I was content to live vicariously through my friends.  When it was over and I looked through the results I broke down, not because my former running/training partners did so well (placing: 2, 9, 13, 26, 33, and 74th) .  Heck no, I am incredibly proud of them!  I got upset for a completely different reason.  Well, sort of.

I have to give a little background.  Christmas of 2008 I secretly looked into the World Class Athlete Program offered by the Army.  I knew I could get paid to train, and get great benefits for the family.  If I went through Basic Training and AIT I would then be allowed to train freely at the location of my choosing.  I thought I met the requirements, which at that time were to have placed in the top 3 at a national competition within the last 2 years. When I inquired I was told I in fact did not qualify because the national competition was not an Olympic Distance (It was a 25k).  Not long after that Casey came to me with his dream of joining the Army, so I didn't pursue it further.  I wasn't going to have both parents gone at basic training and AIT.  That seemed really selfish.   They have since changed the requirements to make them more black and white.  I feel the Marathon standard is still totally within my limits if I were to train again.  Now back to the results.

I saw, in the top 25, not one but two women running for the US Army W.C.A.P.  Neither of them were better runners than myself.  They were granted entrance into the program around the same time I inquired and neither of them were within 3 minutes of any of my PR's at the time.   Because I like to torture myself I researched, and found that neither woman currently on the team made the standard before being admitted.  However, they were career soldiers FIRST, then applied (not comforting to me though due to smugness I often experience on the part of female soldiers).  At this point the faster one has  PR's in the 10k and Half Marathon that are actually a just under a minute slower than mine, but a 15k PR that is faster than mine.  We are comparable runners I suppose.  The second still isn't even close to my PR's.  So then, I wanted to know WHY NOT ME!  I felt myself burn with anger and resentment.  I stiffened involuntarily, feeling as though I'd been cheated out of what rightfully belonged to me.

I silently slumped about the house all morning.  "Annie, is there coffee?" "I dunno.  Do you still have legs?  Go look."  If Casey came downstairs I went upstairs.  If he came up I went down.  We normally talk and drink coffee all morning on Saturday and Sunday.  I wanted to punch him and those two stupid girls right in the face.  I was seriously ready to ramp up my training to show up at the Army 10 miler in a cheesy "Army Wife" T-shirt and kick their asses.  Show them whose boss.  Show them how undeserving they were.  Exactly the attitude I have worked so hard to recover from.

Of course Casey wanted to know what was wrong.  I told him.  Of course his response was insensitive, "I gave it (a promising athletic career) all up too.  I moved on."  In all fairness "giving it up" isn't the same as "losing it".  Power events (high jump) and distance events are very different in this way.  "At any moment honey, I can pick it back up and be back where I was in a year or so.  It isn't the same."  Crying hysterically at this point, which makes him totally uncomfortable because I don't do this often.  He shifts his weight every 2 seconds and keeps his arms locked to his sides in terror that I might try to cling on.  In a Hank Hill to Luanne tone he asks, "Annie, seriously, how many dead ends are you gonna hit before you get God's point?  Have you prayed?"  Okay, so while this is totally correct, it may not have been the best timing ever.  Left hook much?

I didn't hit my husband.  I didn't even yell at him, even though I really wanted to.  I knew he was right.  It wasn't meant to be.  Those women WEREN'T undeserving at all.  I was being a jerk.  I have said several times that Pride and Vanity are huge issues for me, Vengeance too I suppose.  I am doing what I have been called to do.  I don't always like it.  In fact sometimes I down right want to scream at God that he made a mistake, throw myself down arms and legs in every direction, and demand to have my way.  Luckily, within minutes some one or something enlightens me as to my assholish ways and then I find strength to admit that I am wrong.

Enjoyed this day and ran w/o an ego.  The following year I had a huge ego.  

Tonight at Mass, as I prayed, I envisioned myself running a race.  I was near the front of the pack chasing down this woman.  I was filled with the "I'm gonna show you whose boss" feeling.  I looked to the spectators and saw Jesus.  His shoulders slouched, head hanging and shaking in disappointment and sadness.  Then I envisioned myself again running a race.  This time I had no idea where I was in the pack.  I was filled with joy.  I noticed the way the light filtered through the leaves, they way their greens contrasted against a bright blue sky.  I noticed the festive colors of the finish area and Jesus behind the finish line excitedly waving me in.  His arms WIDE open waiting to wrap me up after I finished.  I actually have had both race experiences in real life, minus Jesus being there in person of course.  I realized it's the same Jesus, but different me's.  It is my choice.  I can use my talents or abuse them.  In using them they help others and myself.  "Do nothing out of selfishness or out of vainglory..." Phillipians 2:3  Until I can run with that verse in my heart I will not "train" or compete.  I would just make it all about me, and everyone around me would suffer.  Not to mention the demands of being a military wife with 2 school age children are preventative enough in their own right.  I have made the right choice.  I feel confirmed that I am following God's will for me and my family.  Though I still have days when it is hard to be at peace with it.