The Trifecta: Bucket List Accomplished

NUMBER 1

“Number,” said the man at the starting line.

“233.” I reply curtly.

“233. Go!”

The whistle pierced the air. Like a Pavlovian dog I obediently charge into the water. Running until solid ground evaporated beneath my feet, and then I begin. Stroke, stroke, stroke. My muscles working against the force of the 64 degree water. Midway through they rebel, cramping, tightening. A girl next to me asks for help and the rescue team dives into the water. My mind in a turmoil against my body. “Go!,” it yells. As my body tries to resist. The mind wins and I push on.

The mind guides my journey and in 2 hours I sprint across the finish line. Breathless.

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NUMBER 2

The screams could be heard miles away, 400 women ready to toss around the pigskin at historic Kinnick stadium home of the Hawkeyes. My voice melded with theirs in one large crescendo as AC DCs Back in Black roared from the large speakers we swarmed the field. It’s gameday.

I stand in line waiting my turn. Shifting from foot to foot. Antsy and ready to play. I’m next. Clearing each obstacle I run full speed into the tackle dummy. My body flies through air. THUD. My face meets the turf and I slide along the ground until the force of my body comes to rest. I hop up, empowered, invigorated and a little sore, Ready to do it again.

“We should recruit you,” said coach.

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NUMBER 3

The decongestant hadn’t kicked in yet, and I’m still stuffy, and coughing. My nerves are getting the best of me. The temperature warm, but clammy. I start shaking from an overload of adrenaline and butterflies. With shaky hands I apply the race stickers to my bike helmet and bike.I inhale trying to calm my nerves and then I feel it. The first rain drop.

“Racers make your way to the water,” booms the loud speaker. The rain has quickened turning into a downpour. As I go through my warm up rain drops are magnified off the lake surface, and impede my visability.

The whistle blows, and the sky clears.

With each leg of the race, more sun peaks through the clouds. With sun shining on my face I sprint headlong into the finish line, and beat the clock by two minutes.

1:58, my mom tells me. and tears well in my eyes.

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Now I rest, and drink in that same warm sunshine.

I feel fulfilled. Life is good.

I have completed the trifecta.

Three items off the bucket list in three weeks.

I never had the intention of trying to be the overachiever and cram everything into three weekends, but that’s just how it worked.

It wasn’t easy. I battled anxiety, nerves, a terrible head cold, nasty weather and ice cold water on a chilly morning. But I persevered.

And with each accomplishment, my bucket was filled. My heart even more so, and my confidence … zoom out of the park.

But I will admit I’m exhausted. Spent. Put a fork in me I’m done.

It’s time to rest, regroup and start planning for next summer.

Crossing off My Bucket List

 

Whew!

At 9:45 this morning I completed my first triathlon of the summer. It was a new one for me and I had a rocky start…water and air temp were FREEZING…but I persevered.

My final time 2:01.

I’m so happy….I’ve kind of come to the conclusion that unless I purchase a super bike or amp up my running, my time will always stay the same.

I think amping up the running may be the least expensive first step.

One triathlon down means one check off the old bucket list.

Yep, I have bucket list…You can actually see some of my list here and on my Pinterest Board.

Why a bucket list?

I live  a fuller life when I’m working toward something. If you give me nothing, but visiting Target everyday and watching a two year throw a temper tantrum every five minutes I’d probably lose my mind. But if you give me that, AND some items to aspire to I’m happy. I may be a little stressed, but I’m happy.

There are moments though when I wonder if it’s worth it. The training, the planning, the LIST, but then I grab my pen and scratch it across the page obliterating the item off the list.

And once I’ve crossed an item off the list, I feel empowered and invincible. Ready to face those crazy mobs at Target and ignore the temper tantrums.

So, grab a pencil and pad of paper and make your own list, you never know what you may accomplish.
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Starting tomorrow for the next two weeks, you will hear some other bloggers talk about their bucket lists or their opinions on bucket lists. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do…

Now I’m off to cross two more items off the list, my second triathlon and playing football at Kinnick Stadium. I’m giddy just thinking about it…

Grow in March: Bloom without Boundaries

I step outside and take a deep breath. Fresh air rejuvenates me, and the sun warms my face. The cold metal of the garden shovel cools my hand, and I shift it to the other so I can slip on my gardening gloves. I eye the aged terra cotta pot I plan on using for the flowers. It is then that I realize the pot is too small. No matter how I configure the flowers they won’t fit. I’m not willing to sacrifice the extra flowers, to split them up and put them somewhere else. “I’ll just have to find a new pot,” I think to myself.

Then it hits me. One of those “Oh, boy, Yes I see the irony” moments.
During the month of March I resembled those flowers and that pot. I’m blooming and growing, trying new things, planning adventures and nurturing my writing. But I’m growing a little too fast and too big for my pot. With each passing day it’s getting harder and harder to fit everything in. To do all that I want to do…to expand my mind, my opportunities and my physical strength.
I need to be cautious or I will choke myself out. Expelling all my resources, leaving nothing for me or those I love.
But the need to grow is overwhelming. There’s only one solution. I need a bigger pot…or better yet no pot all. No boundaries.
That’s easier said than done. Changes need to be made. It’s time to prioritize, and call in reinforcements.
Flowers that bloom too fast and too soon can whither. So I pace myself just as I would in a race.  Because my flower needs to grow strong and resilient so it can bloom without boundaries.