Tough

This past Saturday, Ryan and I participated in an event called the Tough Mudder. Wow, what an incredible experience! We covered 11 miles at 8,000 feet or above, and conquered 20 obstacles that were designed by the British Armed Forces. The event was created to test your mental and physical strength, and it did. We plunged into dumpsters full of ice (34 degrees), swam under barrels in freezing mountain ponds, climbed over walls, up and down glaciers, army crawled under barbed wire and electric shock, monkey bars over freezing pools of water, running up a quarter pipe, and so forth. We were cold, tired, and tested. But it was awesome! I have done LOTS of races in the past 15 years and this was my favorite- by far. It was such a rare and wonderful thing to get to do with Ryan. My team was awesome, even if I was the only girl. It was powerful to overcome that with 3 other people. I never felt like my team was frustrated with me or tired of waiting. Nobody was throwing elbows or keeping track of time. People were stopping to help random strangers, striking up conversations, laughing, starting snowball and mud fights, and just enjoying the day. It was so different from any other race I've done in that everyone was helping each other along, not trying to get ahead. Regardless of age, gender, strength, or fitness level, we all just wanted to complete it and make sure those around us completed it as well.

So, I just got to thinking about how life often feels like trying to get through the Tough Mudder. One might compare a toddlers embarrassing tantrum in the middle of King Soopers to the trying to get through the electric shock therapy. You could liken a fight with your spouse to pushing through the "Arctic Enema". Choosing a preschool or school for you kids is a bit like running the "gauntlet" ( 1/2 mile straight down the ski slope and 1/2 straight back up).  Choosing to work or stay at home is like struggling to get over the 8 foot walls. Struggling with your eating issues, taking care of a loved one who is physically or mentally ill, trying to love a loved one with an addiction.... I could go on and on, but you all know what you're battling. The question is, are you battling it alone? Are you trying to crawl up that 10 foot wall on your own, or do you have people around you to hoist you up and over. When you're too shocked to move forward (like I was in the mountain pond), do you have some one yelling at you to keep moving- someone grabbing your hand to pull you though? There were so many times on Saturday that Ryan, Andy or Derrick came along side me to get me over or through something. They pulled me out of cold water, lifted me up the 1/4 pipe, talked me through moments of panic, cheered and pulled me through army crawling in a pit of mud under barbed wire, and so forth. And when we got through it, we all high fived and hugged. After I went through the "electroshock therapy" and my face and back got pounded, they handed me a beer! We are all undoubtably closer after coming through that.

What if we fought through all of these battles and hard decisions together- instead of competing with one another and trying to get ahead? Instead of worrying about our finish time, what if we stopped to help those who are wounded and struggling with a smile, patience and no judgement. What if, instead of thinking we had to get through all of this tough stuff by ourselves, we accepted the helping hands of others? I struggle a lot with this. Early on in motherhood, I thought I should be able to do everything by myself. When I was able to swallow my pride and accept help, life was so much fuller and manageable. This challenge would have been impossible if I had tried to go it alone. Truly, there is no way I could have gotten over a good 1/3 of the obstacles by myself. The guys, sure. They could have completed 99% of it alone. I physically was not tall enough or strong enough to do it. So, I took their helping hands and we pushed through TOGETHER. There was a young man who started in the wave before us who had lost both legs while deployed. While I was huffing and puffing up the mountain, I saw him.  He was pushing his wheel chair like mad up the side of the mountain, and he had a team surrounding him to help him along. So then I was huffing and puffing and crying. They lifted him over 8 foot walls, folks! That kind of camaraderie is so rare, and so precious!   I think life would be a better experience for all of us if we could go through the tough stuff together, lifting each other over obstacles, accepting a hand, lending a hand, cheering each other on, and refusing to "race" or compete.

Thank you to my awesome Turbo Turtles for such a fun experience! I seriously hope your quads are as sore as mine today, because stairs seem a bit like "Everest" to me right now.