Adventures into the Madness

August, 2007


(This is a copy of a post I wrote in 2007 on another blog. Transferred to tepring.com for reference!)

For the past couple of weeks I’ve been reflecting upon the realization that I’M A BIG FAT CHICKEN!

The epiphany occurred during our vacation last month in CO. A large group of people that we camp with planned an aggressive 18 mile hike earlier in the year and I wanted/want to do that hike. I even joined a couple of the training walks that happened through the spring, and did a lot of walking on my own time. Summer and kids, though, killed my walking routine and the short story ends with when the time came, during the week of our trip: I chickened out. I didn’t do the hike. I was even OK with the decision UNTIL: My husband joined the group and did the walk instead.

The second he announced he was hiking, (Mr. back trouble, foot trouble, not even sure if he’d make it around the block) I was pissed. At me. Myself. I. My husband’s only crime in the situation was that he was brave. He just decided to do it, and did it. I’m sure he thought I was mad at him for a couple of days, and I was, but only as the symbol of my own chicken-ness.

Once I got past blaming him for stealing my victory (which he didn’t, I’m just still feeling a bit vindictive, hee hee) I started to wonder when I got to be such a coward. When I think back to my High School days, I remember myself as a big dreamer and bold achiever. I signed up for and took college classes as a Sr., just for some pre-college experience. I left for college that was literally across the nation from home and never looked back. I grabbed responsibility like it was nothing, and earned more in the process.

But at some point, I’ve lost that daring, that go for it and see attitude. I’m too cautious, and afraid of rocking the boat. I got weary of fighting for the road less traveled, and habitually choose the smoother path.

In my case, I think that there are 100 little reasons (2 big *little* reasons, ages 7 & 3) and 100 little compromises rather than a single cowering event. The 18 mile hike that I’d talked about and even prepared for a year has served as a useful wake-up call, because, you see, I hadn’t even realized the pattern of choices I’ve been making. With fresher eyes, I’m seeing quite a bit about those patterns that bother me and I’m finding myself taking steps along a bumpier road. I think this is a good thing, because if I want to pursue new career options or dream big again, I need to find the part of me that will take risks again.

In short, I need to cook the chicken!

posted under Frants

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