Fear cuts deeper than swords

A few weeks ago I went skiing again with my roommate. It was actively snowing in the mountains, and there was a foot of fresh powder on the slopes. The drive took longer than usual, as there were several accidents on the way. But once we got there, I had the most fun snow skiing experience of my life. I attribute this to several things:

1) Lovely conditions- who knew a foot of powder would make such a soft, inviting cushion for falling down on?  And it's also much easier to control your descent on powder than on a slick crust of ice.
2) A small class (five) and a great ski instructor who had mastered the art of encouragement and pushing the limits. He knew when we were ready for a bigger run, and he knew what to say when we were paralyzed with fear at the top of that run (and after a big wipeout halfway down the run).
3) My own overcoming fear catchphrase (see the title of this post, which is from A Game of Thrones and reveals the depths of my nerdiness, but totally works as a mantra whilst doing something scary). Repeated to myself (quietly) this actually summoned up the courage which empowered me to careen down a mountain with confidence.
4) The noise that one of the girls in my group made whenever she started losing control or fell. I wish I had recorded it...like a cross between a donkey braying and Joey Lawrence's "Whoa!" circa 1994. It made me laugh so hard every time. I also laugh when I fall down or see someone else fall down...so I laughed a whole lot that day.

There is such a sense of accomplishment in doing something that scares you, and the resulting joy made me realize how much of my life I have spent avoiding the things that scare me. A lot of my fear revolves around what other people will think. If I take a risk and I fail, they'll think I'm pathetic. If I take a risk and succeed, they'll think that I think that I'm better than them. It's an utterly absurd way to live...if you can even call it living.

I've recently been learning a lot about risks and fear and shame and vulnerability after reading a book called Daring Greatly, by Brene Brown. The title comes from a speech by Teddy Roosevelt, and I will quote it here to entice you to read this book:  "It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while Daring Greatly..." Gives me goosebumps, every time. And grants me the perspective to overcome my fear of what other people are thinking.

Speaking of risks, I went and played broomball last night for the first time ever, and had a blast. In another life, I think I could have been wildly successful at field hockey :)  There was a somber intermission however, when one of the players fell on the ice and snapped his humerus. It was the second grossest injury I've ever seen (after my cousin Amy stepped in a ditch playing volleyball in Nana & Grandad's front yard and her knee bent 45 degrees in the wrong direction). Somebody asked, "Is anyone a doctor?" and I said, "I'm a nurse, and somebody needs to call 911." Limbs should not be floppy. They also usually don't break that easily. I guess I'm thankful it was an arm and not a head or spine. I wouldn't mind some more first responder training.

Two posts in a month, progress!

Wow, I am bad at updating this.

So, my New Year's resolution this year was to do something every week that I've never done before. Pretty sure I didn't even make it through January, but I have kept it in mind and feel like I'm being more adventurous and taking more risks (which is really what the resolution was about). 

My good friends Sharon and Fabio moved to southern California in October, and since I've missed them a lot and Seattle is kind of miserable in February, I planned a visit with them over a four day weekend. A couple of weeks ago, I flew into LAX, rented a car, and had a really wonderful time.

- It was my first time flying Virgin America, and it was quite an experience. Purple lounge style lighting when you walk onto the plane, outlets to plug in your electronics for every seat, and super hot pilots/flight attendants. 

- It was overcast with highs in the mid 50's on my first day. I drove up to Venice beach, grabbed lunch at Whole Foods, and ate at a questionable picnic table on the beach. Shivering, but enjoying the fresh air and being someplace new, I pondered what life would be like as a beach bum, living in the back of an ancient van, smoking pot at the beach, and congregating with the other bums. I don't think such a life would suit me.

- I drove to Sharon and Fabio's place in Thousand Oaks, where the sun was peeking through the clouds a bit more. My rented VW Passat felt like a Ferrari compared to my 97 Corolla, and I enjoyed speeding along the California highway Mario-Kart style. Actually putting my blinkers on to change lanes caused the drivers next to you to either speed up or slow down in order to prevent your getting over, so I quickly adapted to driving 'assertively' (in other states they might say 'recklessly' but when in Rome...) 

- My friend Sharon had just started a new job, leaving me with 4 hours to entertain myself on Friday. So I dropped her off, and headed up the coast to Ventura. I hit up some thrift stores, checked out the historic mission, and relished the sunshine and scenery.

-My lunch was amazing. Not sure if it was the salt/sea air or if I just found a great restaurant, but if anyone should ever find themselves in Ventura, you have to go to Lure Fish House.

-Best fish tacos I have ever eaten. Totally worth the pain of ingesting gluten (at least until the next day...)

-Thankfully, they had a flourless lava cake on the menu. Please appreciate how the taco hand smear on my camera lens lends an ethereal quality to the picture, truly reflecting how heavenly this dessert was.

- I walked down to the beach after lunch, and out onto the pier, which had all these interesting informational articles and pictures of people strolling on the pier at the turn of the century. I stopped to chat with a local man who had a cooler full of crabs that he'd caught, and a posse of seagulls that were supervising his endeavors. 

- I was totally freezing, but loved it anyway. 

- I could wax poetic about how majestic the ocean is, but it would be cheesy and on the internet forever, so I won't. But seeing the actual ocean made me realize that the Puget Sound, while lovely, is a pale imitation. And I though all kinds of deep, spiritual thoughts that would probably seem silly if I could remember and recount them here. I'll just say that it is restorative to my soul to stare at the ocean...which is why I took so many pictures of it :)

- After I picked Sharon up from work, we went and visited a friend of hers then took a walk on the beach. 

- Windy friends.

- On Saturday, Sharon and Fabio had to take care of some family stuff for a few hours, so I drove  down to Malibu (along an impossibly winding road with a speed limit of 25 mph...because I evidently took the wrong road through Topanga Canyon). I parked on the side of the road, and walked on the beach for an hour and a half. It actually got warm enough to take off my jacket and roll up my sleeves, and there were lots more deep thoughts as I walked. It was really fun to watch people surfing, but it made me wish I had a wetsuit so I could frolic in the waves, too. 

- I'm not really sure who lives up on the bluffs in Malibu, but I want to be one of them someday.

- Saturday night we drove into L.A. and met up with Sharon's friend Anthony in Hollywood. I wasn't super impressed with the chaotic, bright, dirty tourist-y madness of the area around the Dolby theater.  But then we walked to west Hollywood and had dinner at a great restaurant called Wood & Vine, and went to a record store called Amoeba that Fabio loves. It was a fun night, and as we were walking back   to our car I got to see the nightlife scene. To this midwestern girl turned Seattle-ite (which is even more casual than the midwest) it was crazy to see how dressed up people get to go out in L.A. Five-inch heels, impossibly short dresses, and impeccably coifed hair everywhere (even on the guys). It felt like I was in a movie. But since the culture there seems to place a ton of importance on the 'industry' (perhaps to validate their very existence), it makes sense. 

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Taking this trip really made me want to do some travel nursing around the U.S.  I had such a good time being in a new city and exploring it, even when I was by myself. So, that's something I'll be thinking about more in the coming months.

Maybe I'm crazy, but a couple of weekends ago the weather was nice (i.e. it wasn't raining) and I ran around Lake Union on a whim, which is 6.2 miles, and it felt pretty good, and my thought on finishing was, "I bet I could run a half-marathon." So, on June 22nd, I will attempt to run 13.1 miles in the Rock n Roll Half-Marathon Seattle. I feel pretty good about it, and there's a group of runners at my gym who will be training for that race together who I can join for speed drills and long runs. 

Updates to come...