I Compete. I Don't Exercise.

Tonight, I confirmed the belief I've always known about my self...I compete...I don't exercise. Every since I could run, dribble, shoot, or hit something, I have competed. It's in my DNA from beginning to end. Because of that, I've never understood how people can "exercise" without "competition" being involved. Take the treadmill for example. How in the world can people run on one of those things for half an hour or longer? You don't get anywhere. No one wins or loses. Your adrenaline is racing when you're done, but it's because you're breathing hard, not because you competed with everything in you to win. Don't get me wrong. I do understand that some people can "compete" against themselves..."compete" to beat their best time..."compete" to reach a certain goal. I get that. I guess I can even do that to some degree. It's just not me. I can't compete at my tip top best unless there is someone else involved. Those of you who can, I love you and respect you with all of my competing heart. I just honestly don't understand you. I've tried. I just don't. That's why I don't exercise.

As I've gotten older and not had a competitive team to be a part of anymore, I've thought I would eventually move into the world of just plain ol' exercise, the world that has baffled me my entire life. Tonight I made the decision to give it a shot. Garrett has been sick for a few days, and we've all been cooped up in the house. With some stir craziness going on and some post-baby pounds I'm desperately wanting to shed, I decided "to go for a run". I got all geared up. I put on my running shoes. I hooked up my ipod and headphones. I headed out the front door.

Not 10 minutes out of the front door, my belief that I compete and don't exercise was confirmed in an instant. That instant was when my former athletic self became a non-coordinated exerciser who apparently can't listen to music and run on a sidewalk at the same time. Yep. I fell down, even though the words "fell down" don't quite capture the ungraceful way I smacked into the concrete. Flat on my face. I said it happened in an instant. Actually, I felt like it took 5 blocks from the moment I realized I might fall to the point of me finally rooting the ground. The motivating song I was listening to that caused me to pick up my pace, combined with my trusty decade old tennis shoes that are extremely comfortable but apparently aren't the best for running, helped me trip and again move back into the world of a non-exerciser. If you want a complete mental image of what I looked like on the ground, imagine a baseball player running and diving to catch ball in the outfield. All stretched out to make the winning catch. Trust me, I would have rather gotten my gashed hand and banged up knee competing to catch that ball! It would have made for a much better story, especially to the sweet and innocent seven-year-old little girl standing across the street who not only saw my embarrassing fall but kindly asked me if I was okay! :-)


(Btw, I haven't written a blog post in a while "in honor" of someone. Today that is going to change. This blog is "in honor" of someone who goes by the name of "Hill", and always will, at least in my world. I know without a doubt that she completely "gets" everything I just wrote. She makes it where at least I know there is one other person in this crazy world like me. She is a competitor through and through. There is nothing like competing with or against her. If you know her, you can confirm that she puts the fun and intensity in competing, competing to be your very best!)