Life lately can be summed up in one way: lists. I currently have multiple to-do lists running: a packing list, a shopping list, a today list, a DO THIS NOW list. Some I made a few months ago, others within an hour of each other.
So yes, I’m a bit scatterbrained.
The other day I was preparing to leave the house to run errands (and finish one of said lists) and managed to lose everything I needed to take with me. Naturally wearing my sunglasses the entire time inside.
The same day my sisters and I walked all over Portland in search of a consignment store to drop off half of my closet in exchange for some money (Thai pants and Nepal jewelry, I’m coming for you). They took 3 shirts. Bless you, Portland.
I’ve been on an airplane every week since training camp, visiting family scattered across the States. I’ve discovered I like making lists in the sky, too.
I think yesterday is when it hit me the most. All I had set out to do was eat breakfast. But seven Chrome tabs and an empty coffee mug later, I was so overwhelmed that I had the urge to grab my brother’s graduation cake and peace out. Probably to go sit in a forest and stuff my face with unnaturally colored frosting.
Today the uncontrollable laughing hit. My parents and I drove all over the place and called at least ten numbers to find someone–ANYONE?!–who provides the yellow fever vaccination as well as the other things I need. I couldn’t stop laughing because, well, silly exasperation is better than stress crying, right?
Oh, and my passport is currently in a pile of to-be processed visa applications in San Francisco.
The good news is I ordered a pair of Chacos (I’ve conformed and can officially file as a World Racer on tax returns) so if need be, I can run, hike, swim and–from all the hype I hear about them–fly myself to Nepal next month.
Jokes and laughing attacks aside, the past few weeks have been chaotic. More in my brain than anything else (but if I’ve word vomitted on you lately, I dearly apologize). Yet in the midst of the crazy, I (AGAIN!) am reminded that this race isn’t about me. It’s not about my unprotected passport in good ol’ San Fran. It’s not about how many endorphins I get from checking off something on my lists or even the anonymous donations that somehow keep appearing in my account (seriously, whoever you are, THANK YOU!).
And it most certainly isn’t about how many things I can fit into my pack or what my mullet will look like three months into the race.
And because of that reminder, I’ve been able to smile and laugh–and not just out of exasperation. I’ve allowed myself to just close all seven tabs and go swimming with my cousin or play badminton (horrifically) with my family. To feel the burning in my lungs on a run, the sun (and later sunburn) of the current day. To continue to enjoy life now regardless of the never ending to-do lists.
And you know what? Maybe I’ll just rip up those lists and trust. Worrying and OCD don’t help a spastic soul like me anyway.
