“I wanted to find every reason to not allow myself to make a connection. I wanted to keep my heart wrapped up in my chest where I knew it would be safe. I wanted to take others silence as rejection. I wanted to believe I was not one of them and that there was no way anyone would want to be my friend. I made excuse after excuse to allow myself to be on the outside looking in. I saw myself being someone I did not recognize at all and for some reason I couldn’t snap out of it. I told myself I would just wait until I had my smaller team and then maybe I could open up a bit more. I was completely surrounded by young people who had the same passions as I do and yet I felt entirely alone. All I could do was ask myself why? Why was I freaking out and shutting down? If this is me when I’m completely out of my comfort zone, then I don’t like this me at all.”
There I was sitting in complete shock and disbelief that this was really happening. I didn’t move from the baggage claim area for at least a solid 45 minutes. Was I really hours from home and all by myself for the first time in my life? Was I really subjecting myself to a week of the complete unknown AND with strangers? Is this real life?!! That was all I could think of as I sat in the airport. I knew I needed to get up and find the meeting place for all the arriving world racers, but my feet felt like lead weights keeping me right where I was. I wanted to cry, change out of my blue shirt identifying me as a member of N-Squad, and board the next plane back to KC. I fought with myself an entire hour before I made myself get up and ask the nearest worker where the “Chophouse in the Atrium” was? He pointed right in front of where we were and said, “Turn that corner and you’re there.” I looked where he pointed and saw several people with packs like mine “Oh…….that easy, huh?” He looked a little confused as I thanked him and began walking towards my fate!
Getting to camp was a blur. I spoke with those who spoke to me but otherwise I watched closely and observed everyone. (Creeper status.) My first night was the hardest night for me emotionally. I felt so entirely alone and so afraid. I sat in my tent that night telling myself that the next day I would have to make the call to my parents and tell them I was coming home.
I woke up to the sound of rain drops slowly……..and then not so slowly hitting my tent. I wish I had video footage of what happened next but alas I shall have to paint a picture with my words. I jumped up forgetting that I was in a tent and immediately tripped and fell as I scrambled for my glasses. I started grabbing my sleeping gear and shoving it into my pack. All the while audibly repeating, “Jesus make it stop, Jesus make it stop!” I was convinced in my half-awake state that my entire tent was flooding and that all of my belongings would be soaked for the week. I had everything packed up before I realized, “Wait a minute…..I’m still dry.” Only a few drops had gotten in! There I was sitting knees to my chest, headlamp illuminating my dry tent, and 3 more hours until sunrise. Fun, right? This city girl was straight trippin!
Now, I could write pages about what went down the entire first 3 days of training camp, but I will spare you. I wanted to set the stage and allow you into my brain for those first few days. I used to hate reading blogs about training camp that said, “ I won’t tell you what happened just in case future racers read this.” Well now I have to be “that girl.” Lo siento, friends.
Misery loves company so I’ll give a synopsis of the not so fun aspects of camp.
Sleep? I have heard of this concept. Jaykay…it could have been worse! I’d say roughly 4-5 hours a night at best. Every night was a different arrangement. I quickly learned that my tent was the nicest, warmest, and most spacious place I would be sleeping all week. I slept in it twice. (I sincerely apologize for those who had me sleeping an inch from your face whereas I tend to sleep loudly.) We never stayed the same place twice and every morning we packed up everything we had.
Food? Every day was a different theme. Meals were served “community style” eight people per one plate. Every meal was about a handful of food. Some meals we were not allowed utensils and grabbed food with our dirty, porta potty, no running water all week, hands. The germaphobe in me was quickly laid to rest.
Showers? Nope. Bucket with freezing cold water once that entire week? Yes.
Physical activity? Everything felt like a hike. To get from point A to B was always difficult for me being the size that I am. Mornings started with an all squad workout. Exercises were always different and very challenging for someone like me. The first morning we had to load up our stuff and hike with our equipment. I had at least 47 pounds worth of stuff strapped to me. I walked about two minutes and said to myself, “This is so not happening.” I turned around and went back to wait until the rest of the squad returned.
That’s when I came down with a bad case of the feelings. It was then that I created this gap between myself and my squad and told myself that nobody really cared and wouldn’t want to care. Hell, I didn’t care. I felt pathetic, helpless, and so alone in that moment. I was angry because I knew I would struggle physically that week but I was not aware of the way it would make me feel so helpless and like I was a failure. There are few things worse than realizing you’re responsible for the way you are.
I watched as my squad returned. I couldn’t bear to look any of them in the eye. It hurt too much. I’ve never wanted my weight to be the reason I couldn’t contribute or be a part of a team. And I had too much pride to be the one everyone cheered for across the finish line with a crew of people sticking around to make sure I finished not alone.
After that morning I wanted to find every reason to not allow myself to make a connection. I wanted to keep my heart wrapped up in my chest where I knew it would be safe. I wanted to take others silence as rejection and I wanted to believe I was not one of them and that there was no way anyone would want to be my friend. I made excuse after excuse to allow myself to be on the outside looking in. I saw myself being someone I did not recognize at all and for some reason I couldn’t snap out of it. I told myself I would just wait until I had my smaller team and then maybe I could open up a bit more. I was completely surrounded by young people who had the same passions as I do and yet I felt entirely alone. All I could do was ask myself why? Why was I freaking out and shutting down? If this is me when I’m completely out of my comfort zone then I don’t like this me at all. I did what I had learned to do the last 10 years of my life. If I didn’t put myself out there then there was no way I could get rejected. It would hurt less when I was rejected to be unattached and distant.
This all sounds really sad and not fun. I know. But I think it is always important to see how a story starts so that we can recognize the fullness of where it ends. Camp didn’t end with my heart a mess. So make sure you read part two because Jesus is great, man. 🙂
