No Regrets Coyote

I am 17-days away from doing one of the craziest, grab-life-by-the-horns, may-be-having-a-midlife-crisis, I'll be 40 in two and a half months things I've ever done. I'm traveling all the way to the Southern California desert by myself to meet 7 other women whom I have never met and with whom I will be sharing a tent for two-nights while we take turns running through the day and night through the trails in the Los Coyotes Reservation.

What was I thinking? (Reference back to the upcoming anniversary of my birth 4-decades ago).

I'm terrified. My training has not been what I wanted. I've seriously considered dropping out. There is a very nice alternate who I am sure would be happy to take my place. I've got a list of reasons a mile long why I should NOT go and do this thing. The list does not even include the half-joking reasons some of my friends have offered (this second list includes, among other things, coyotes, mountain lions, and human trafficking rings kidnapping me and dragging me across the Mexico border).

So, why am I doing this hard and crazy thing that I am not even sure I can do? Because it is hard, and a little crazy, and I'm not at all sure I can do it or at least do it well. Because I have two little girls at home who hang on my every word and who, I hope, will one day not only want to do hard, crazy things they are unsure of - but will actually do them.

I want my girls to know it is okay to be nervous, unsure, even terrified but that you DO THE THING anyway. Courage does not mean you don't feel those feelings - it means you take the next step anyway. You step up to the podium, or to bat, or to the starting line. You grab the mike, take the stage, lace up your shoes, whatever it is. Trying and failing is better than living a life of regret and of wondering "what if."

So maybe I am having a little bit of a mid-life something, but I refuse to call it a crisis. I prefer a rebirth. Life is too precious, too short, too quick, too wonderful to miss out on it. And it made my heart swell that even when I told them that it meant I'd be leaving for a few days, the girls did not miss a beat in encouraging me to do this thing!

Wish me luck. Let me know if you have any coyote-repellent secrets. But above all, and to steal from Nike - whatever your thing is, just do it!

Comments

I Want You To Have It All

As those of you who follow me on IG know, I've thrown the idea(l) of a work-life balance out the proverbial window. Those scales will never balance and there will be days and weeks they tip one way before dropping back the other. There are times I am baking and carpooling like some modern day Donna Reed with a Best Mom coffee mug and other times where I feel like the Queen of the Courtroom, only to find out my kid didn't have lunch at school or forgot her ballet shoes. As an example, it is a known fact around my office that when I am in a big trial someone in my house is going to have a major illness - literally these have ranged from pneumonia to emergency appendectomy. Talk about mom guilt - not only am I not there to love on them, I can't even really give them any mental energy until I am out of the courtroom. All of that is to say that life, an parenting, and lawyering are all like that - you win some, you lose some. Chasing some pipe dream of balance and harmony only ...

Hello! The Phone is Ringing So I Say Hello!

I’m not sure what I expected, really. I guess I thought that when Pumpkin officially crossed the one year threshold into toddler-hood that things miraculously got easier. I had a little parenting-confidence and puffed my chest out just a little as I slowly toddled with her, grasping onto my index finger, to the doctor’s office for her one year appointment (see video for an idea of how slow slow is). I sat proudly in the “well baby” room (a place we haven’t spent much time) remembering the days I sat in that same room crying, looking frantically around for a spare diaper and praying they wouldn’t call her name before I could unhook her from her carseat (which took a long time back then) and changed her diaper. One year later here I was. We had come so far. I was proud of us and I looked at those new mothers with a little knowing pity. In all my one year of wisdom, I sat there glowing with the realization that the hard times were behind us. I didn’t have a “baby” anymore, I had a toddle...

Take These Broken Wings and Learn to Fly

I started this blog on Tuesday but ran out of time to finish it (or so I thought). Seems like the ending was not written yet and so I had to wait. Over the weekend, the girls found a butterfly (moth?) with a wounded wing. They came peeling into the kitchen looking for plastic ware they could poke holes in for a habitat. They gently placed the broken butterfly in the dish, gave it a flower (to eat?) and a paper towel soaked in water (to drink). I’m not sure about the flag, but knowing them I’m sure it was for add some pizazz. Little sister checked on her patient faithfully each day and even wrote notes to the neighbor-girl and put them in her mailbox with updates (“are [sic] butterfly is doing good;” “gave her some water to drink”). On Tuesday morning, as I was leaving for work I did a check for myself and came to realization that our patient had died. I took the photo you see and immediately started having a deep, internal philosophical debate about whether to tos...

Sugar and Spice

Search This Blog