leigh ann

I was clearing through the ole box of memories to add to my gallery wall over the weekend because I’m going through this phase of making my living space permanent. We can talk about that whole mess of a mental issue later.

But I came across my bib from the 2020 Bahamas Marathon.

I think post college I was trying to change my life. Find myself. Be more healthy. Honestly, I don’t know where my mind was at when I signed up with my old workplace to join their relay team for the event. To be fair, I think I was one of the people pushing for it.

I guess it was a once in a lifetime thing – I never planned to do it again. I was doing the 5k walks for charity and my coworker and I would go walk the bridge every evening. This seemed like an event I shouldn’t miss if I had the chance.

My anxiety during this time was high. My anxiety had been high for quite some time. Maybe even my whole life. I knew this would be bad for my anxiety. I did it anyway because that’s what I was doing at that time. I was literally shitting myself and then going out and doing the thing.

This was why I signed up for the first leg. Luckily nobody else wanted to do it. It ran from the Junkanoo, up and over the two bridges, and round Montague to the McDonald’s. But I knew the anxiety of waiting for any other leg would get me. I would crumble, panic, can’t breathe.

So I drove my ass down to Junkanoo Beach and waited and made several panicked trips to the bathroom until the race started sounded.

And then I got my ass in that crowd of people and jogged. I can’t say it was anything epic. I kept firmly in the middle of the pack – which was suprising because I expected to be more in the back. I walked bits. I talked bits. I drank from the drink stations. I did it.

I made it all the way to McDonald’s and handed that baton over to my coworker. I didn’t think about quitting the whole time. And I enjoyed myself. Also the plus of getting a medal and beer at the end.

A friend recently said that they use me as a example of cognitive perseverance and bravery and I backpedaled and was like what the fuck are you even saying I just do things and throw up from fear. But I guess that’s what they meant. Stuff like this is probably what gives them that impression.

I wish I could describe the hows and whys of doing this. Being bound with fear and still pushing your body past itself to have these types of experiences. I don’t even know if that was the right way to handle it.

Was the once in a lifetime experience worth the toil it took on my mental and physical body? I had months to prepare. I’d be training. I knew it was coming. That didn’t stop the panic.

But the panic didn’t stop the doing. I did a quarter marathon, finished it.

Panic has stopped me from doing things before. Things I wonder about missing out on. Maybe that’s why I decided to join the team. Maybe I was tired of missing out on.

Either way, I think this was the beginning of the change my life era.

The bib didn’t make it onto the gallery wall – it got stuck into my everything journal with a little bit of writing – but it did make it onto the website.

The medal is also probably somewhere in a suitcase. If I find it I think that’ll join the gallery wall.