And Then I Jumped……

I’ve mentioned that maybe there is a bit more jiggle to my wiggle and a few more lumps to the bumps.  It kind of bugs me.  It bugs me for a few reasons.  For one, clothes don’t “hang” well on a bump and when they cling to a lump, it throws the whole look off.

Spandex is a miracle.  How marvelous that something so simple can smooth it all out.  I understand the concept of the corset.   There is much to be said for lacing in those parts that are starting to run a bit rogue.  If only squishing all the bits and bobs didn’t give me such a headache! Lets be honest, those lumps and bumps have to go somewhere and just like when you squeeze the toothpaste, it all goes to the top.   I am vain but not that vain.  I like to be able to breathe, eat, drink and not pass out because my “squish” is “squashed”!

The lumps and bumps bug me because now my underwear doesn’t fit.  My thighs have chosen to blossom and now my underwear is too tight!  I used to love bikini but now it  slips off my rolls and digs into my belly.  What used to be so simple has now become impossibly complicated.  I’m grouchy and all I want is my underwear to fit!

My life journey can be documented by the stages of my knickers.  I no longer see any appeal in wearing dental floss and a “thong” isn’t much more!  I eased into boy shorts and then slowly to sexy and seamless but now I fear I am on the verge of the abyss.  Where do I grow to next?

I’ve been trying it all!  A larger size, a higher waist, a different blend of cotton and lace.  Anything that allowed me to breathe and not curse by mid day.   A fair penny has been spent with the hopes of my circulation not being cut off.  I just didn’t want to have to land in the beige bloomer section.  If I wear underwear the size of a parachute, it’s like I will have given up and if I give up, I might as well go all the way.  I’ll let my gray hair grow, stop plucking my chin hairs and what the hell, why bother shaving my legs.  Pantaloons is nothing more than the beginning of the end.

And just when I thought all was lost and death by lack of circulation was imminent, I found my new stage.  Enough spandex to keep things “tucked” in place, a style that kept all bits covered and if I were hit by a bus and taken to hospital, my knickers wouldn’t give the impression of collecting a seniors pension.

I have found a comfort which is kind symbolic of life.  I have often been looking for me.  My search has kept me looking here there under where.  My search for fit is taking time.  It’s quite a happy place to know my fit.  Yes, that sense of fit is sometimes fleeting but at least I have stopped pretending and can admit that dental floss is really not my fit.  It boggle my mind that I paid good money for three strings that were held together by a thread.

Anna Quindlen, who is about the greatest author there ever was, described aging as lineage on a laundry line. The bright pink panties that a toddler wears with glee that is quickly followed by fun cotton prints.  There is a stretch of raucous and cotton slowly fades to near nothing but grows back to that thing called a thong and then eases into boy shorts or comfortable bikini.  There is a flash of hipster and the glamour of french cut but inevitably, seamless is sexy and control briefs sublime. Imagine it all, that long line of glorious garb, swinging in the wind on the line.  The ages and stages, flapping like colorful flags.  Oh what a life.

Yes, I want to fit my life.  I find I am happy in cotton and sexy is breathing without fear of fainting.  A higher waist ensures a firmer fit.  It’s knowing what works and what brings comfort and form.  But when adventure calls and courage is needed, I will search under there for a fabulous pair of underwear!

A few years ago, I decided to add some adventure to my life and I signed up to the Tough Mudder in Whistler, BC.  I called my sister and coerced her into doing it with me.  I had no idea what to expect.  I watched the videos of the events and totally freaked myself out but committed to overcoming my anxiety and just do it.

It was fantastic.  The events were challenging (and wet as well as very muddy).  There was one event that stopped me cold.  I had to jump off a platform into the water.  To me, this platform must have 50 feet high.  I got to the top and completely froze.  I knew how to swim, I wasn’t fussed about jumping into dark, murky waters, I was afraid of what “might” happen.  My mind created a million scenarios in which I would likely die.  I must have stood at the top for over 20 minutes, letting countless of other “Mudders” go ahead of me.  My team was standing on the sidelines cheering me on.  I had two choices.  I could admit defeat and climb back down the ladder or I could jump.  I jumped.

I did it.  I overcame my fear and I did it.  It was exhilarating.  My team was ecstatic.  I was ecstatic.  I did something I wasn’t sure I could do and I took that life lesson forward.  I used it as my rallying cry in my everyday life and took more chances and fought off the mental fear that consumed me in my everyday life.

But like all good lessons, the impact faded for me.  I started to slip back into old patterns and retreated to safety.  I became cautious and not as embracing.  It was time to repeat Tough Mudder and get to the top of the platform and rather than hesitate, I wanted to enthusiastically jump without fear and without hesitation.  I wanted to defeat my fear of heights and renounce the grip of fear that took hold of my mind and my body.

Tough Mudder is an incredible event.  It’s not an event where you compete against others, you challenge yourself.  The mantra of the event is “never leave a fellow Mudder behind”.  Everyone on that course looks out for fellow Mudders.  This is Mudder Nation and it is powerful.

So I spent a year training my mind.  I would envision the platform and saw myself climbing the ladder and leaping without thinking; not giving way to fears or mental head games.  I saw the ledge and my feet carrying me out into the air and landing safely into the water.  I was legendary in my own mind.

Imagine my horror when I got to the new platform.  It wasn’t a ledge.  It was a platform and then you had to walk out onto a plank to jump.  WHOA.  This was not what I had mentally trained for.  This was a new fear.  Could I do it?  I stuttered.  I panicked, I froze and I started to let people go ahead of me.  Mudder Nation kicked in.  A man stood beside me and I said, “go ahead”.  He looked at me and said “No, I’ll wait.  You can do this.”  I looked at him.  My eyes showing my fear and he said it again, “You can do this.”  He was going to stand there all day until I did it.  I took a moment and replied “You’re shaming me into this aren’t you?”.  “Yup.  You can do it.”  Here was this perfect stranger willing to hold up his progress for me to overcome my fear.  What a gift.  If he was prepared to support me, I was going to take his gift and despite everything, I jumped again.

The cheering was just as enthusiastic as the previous year and the same exhilaration took hold but with deeper meaning.  Mudder Nation showed a new level of what it was to be human.  How much stronger we are when we support each other in our challenges.

And then I jumped……it’s what we all do when we come face to face with obstacles that we think we can’t overcome.  We can rally our inner courage and meet our fears head on and when we falter, that is when we as humans need to come together to lend support.  “You can do it”.  What if we all did that on a daily basis?  What if offered that same spirit of encouragement in all areas of our life and what if we accepted that same spirit of support from those around us?  How immensely powerful we could all become.

Have I achieved this in all areas of my life?  No.  It’s a lesson in continuous progress.  It’s how I feel writing this blog.  I love to write but my inner chit chat chides me with comments like “who would bother to read what you have to say?”.  I am not sure but I will meet this negativity with courage.  And then I jumped.  I don’t know who will read this but maybe someone might.  Maybe someone might resonate with my fear and insecurities and want to join me on this literary path of sharing.  My story is average and my life content likely similar to that of many.  If you are keen on being a part of the stories, I hope you might return to this blog spot.  We are certainly all individually capable but I dare suggest that we are so much stronger when we bond together in this common journey of life.   It’s messy and muddy and strange and not at all perfect but oh the magic of connecting with fellow travelers.  It’s a leap of faith, a calling of courage and a commitment to face the wind while gently whispering “you can do it”.