Growing Pains

Any of you who have children already know the first thing my child asks when she is told she is going to the doctor. Say it with me now, "am I going to get a shot?" Trimama, I am sure, has heard it four times over as compared to me. Yet, at a very young age, we learn that sometimes the things we need will hurt. Mom or dad takes us to the doctor or the dentist, and we are told, "this might sting a little."

A LITTLE??!!

I tried to be brave then, and I try to be brave now, but there is still that inner struggle. Part of me intentionally seeks out those new experiences that take me out of my comfort zone. The pain or discomfort I experience tells me I am fully alive and still growing. Another part of me, though, likes things warm and comfortable.

As I write this, I am in a Panera Bread in Madison, Wisconsin, mere hours before my tri-blogger friends will plunge into Lake Menona at the sound of the gun for Ironman Wisconsin. The question on my mind is whether, next year, I will take the plunge with them. I have talked to the Stu-meister on the phone, and I have actually met Trisaratops. She is so infectiously high spirited, she made me want to grab a wetsuit and start right then and there.

Yet . . . this is going to hurt a little. Perhaps the greatest portion of the pain is just the anxiety about whether I can finish what I start, especially when I am not acting in secret, but someone like you is watching. It is one thing to burn out and give up anonymously. It is another to face the music and have someone know it.

I guess part of being a grownup is making the choice that is best, not just the choice that is easy.

Tomorrow, a gun will sound, a couple thousand people will take a great leap toward the fulfillment of a dream, and many hours later I will catch them at the finish line. I know I will feel like I am in the company of heroes.

Then . . . stay tuned.