Courage over comfort

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I want to stay in bed. And cuddle with my boyfriend and dog.
I want to stay in Portland and cook with my friends and walk to the park late with the sun still shining.

I want to stay in Mammoth, and giggle and bond with teammates, and play great mouse detective and trivia on Tuesdays.

I want to not change, not move,
Never leave friends, disappoint anyone, disagree or argue.
I don’t want to risk losing the things that I love.

I have to want this more.

 

I wrote that in my notebook on the plane to the US champs, after spending two weeks at home. This was a follow-up:

Sometimes I wish I could just hide in the mountains and stay preparing forever. There are always more workouts to do, more miles to get in. But that’s not how this works. We have to race, even without a perfect buildup (usually without a perfect buildup). The perfectionist part of me hates it, and that’s usually a good thing. If I weren’t forced with a race deadline, nothing would ever come of the months of work.

My friend @nic.antoinette says courage isn’t the opposite of fear, but of comfort. I feel like I’m constantly seduced by the desire to stay home. No matter how many times I show up, overcome my urge to flake, it will come time to travel, or have a hard conversation, and for a moment I’ll just want to …not. To go back to bed and watch TV. I don’t know if this is my special struggle, or more universal, but it surprises me that even after years of working against it, the little fearful voice still appears in my head. (You can just keep sleeping, call in sick, miss the flight).

Nicole also has a quote about only needed 20 seconds of bravery. You only need 20 seconds of insane courage to start the act. And once it’s started, inertia takes over. Usually for me, it’s even less than that. Just a moment to focus straight on that lounging, luring voice, and think, “YO! snap out of it.” And then stand up, and do the thing.

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