Earlier this week (16 Jul) I had a strange reaction to my song – I wrote about it maybe 2 posts ago, “Baptism By Sweat”. It started during my warmup when I started thinking about the Spartan Race – and how challenging it was going to be, but that I was excited for it. I was thinking about how happy I was. How totally utterly and completely happy I was with my life right now. Despite being sore. Despite being tired. I am giddy for my life. I’m excited for my job. I’m motivated and focused in my life in a way I don’t think I’ve ever been.

I’m so happy with my relationship with my husband. I’m excited to just be with him – in every way, beyond the physical. I yearn for him in a way that I find that I can’t describe.

I started envisioning us doing the race together and jumping through the fire – that final obstacle – together, hand in hand, crossing the finish line. Him, once again, as always, encouraging, lifting me up, supporting me, and cheering me on. That solid foundation in my life. Yes, he’s had his own challenges, which I’ve tried to support him as he’s supported me, but in that moment, all I could see was everything he’s done for me. Repeatedly. Without question. Without asking.

And in that moment, I started feeling the anger, frustration, and shame from decades of not recognize this in me. In my life. In him.

I have so many regrets over the past few decades, and it all crashed down on me at the end of my workout. My actions – or inaction. I tried to heal myself in my inaction when I should have been finding direction in focus – in a goal. I believed the only way to heal myself was not in the environment in which hurt me. That’s what they say, right? But I’ve discovered that is not the case – for me, at least. I am competitive. I always have been, and I probably always will be. I should have used that in my favor instead of denying myself that trait.

There’s nothing wrong with being competitive – when used constructively – and I think not recognizing and acknowledging that aspect of my personality damaged me. I thrive in competition – even if it’s me vs me.

And that’s what the Spartan Race is.

That’s what “Climb the Mountain” is.

And the Valkyrie training.

I’m not graced with natural physical abilities. I may have been had it been honed from a young age, but I wasn’t raised that way. I was often told to “sit down and be quiet”. I was outspoken and forced to quiet my voice. I excelled in male dominated industries but believed I couldn’t enter them. Though gender norms were never entirely forced on me, there were always unspoken expectations – even if my entire being screamed against it. Looking and acting a certain way was always agist and sexist. Young and in your early 20’s? You partied, went out drinking too much, and were reckless. Married? White picket fence, stay at home mom, and had children. Woman entering the work force? You got into banking, customer service, into the beauty industry, or were a flight attendant or ECE. I may not be a Boomer, but as a GenX with Boomer parents, I feel that there was that unspoken expectation. If not from my parents, definitely from society.

So much wasted time.

So much wasted potential.

But the best part about life?

It only truly stops when you do.

I try really, really hard to not look back with regret. I should just be happy that I’ve made it to this point when all I wanted to do was give up at some points! Some days are just harder than others. And I think realizing how happy I am highlighted how… “wrong”… I have been for so long. Wrong isn’t the right word, but it’s the only one I can think of at the moment.

For now, I will continue to climb the mountain. I will never stop fighting.

I am a phoenix, reborn from my inner fire.

I am a Valkyrie.