Getting Higher and Higher, I Go Blind

The Spartan Super.  The iconic midrange race and the second leg of the coveted Spartan Trifecta which is the completion of this race plus a Spartan Sprint and a Spartan Beast in the same calendar  year, something I have completed in both 2017 and 2018.  Advertised at 5-8 miles, but often 9, and 30 "plus" obstacles, with the "plus" left open to interpretation by the good people of Spartan. This iconic race for me is usually done in Chicago with my 1DOS Cofounder, Karl, and my son.  With us, we bring a team of newbies and watch their reactions as the conquer things they did not think possible.  At least it's what we did....until in June, Mother Nature made sure our newbies never jumped the fire, as we were all pulled off the course 3/4 of a mile from the finish due to lightning.  A lackluster finish to say the very least.  A week and a half ago, I would join others of my 1DOS Sharks in a whole different Super, as the thought of leaving an unfinished trifecta on the table this year poked my crazy. This race?  Boston.  I was familiar with the venue as I had done a Sprint there before, and I guess I did mount a little excitement over the newbies attending,  yet at the same time something about it was just difficult.

Every time I look at you, I go blind

In the morning I get up, and I try to 

feel alive, but I can't

-Hootie and the Blowfish                                         

In the days that preceded the event, I would find myself still a bit angry over not finishing in Chicago.  My mind would become a twisted tangle of  worry over several things.  There was everything from Mother Nature winning again with the weather, to conquering this distance again, as 9 miles on a Spartan course was a bit different than 9 on the road, and this course had the colorful nickname,"The Ankle Breaker", to the whole facing the obstacles I struggle with, again.  All of these things led to me having serious doubt about truly doing this whole race over again.  There was the damn slip wall.  One of my main nemeses when it came to OCR racing.  I faced this for the first time two years ago at The Beast in West Virginia. Fifteen feet up a 45 degree angled wall,  with a rope about 7 feet up to "help".  Yeah, well as helpful as it supposedly is, it was always just out of reach for me.  The wall was often wet or muddy, if I am being truly honest, my faith that I could truly run up the damn thing enough to reach the rope was pretty low. So, in the past I would try to run up the incline and grab hold of the damn rope. I would miss and fail. Race after race.  So, gee, hopefully that would be there yet another time. Dare I dream....  This repeating a race I was so close to finishing two months prior suddenly was this obnoxious albatross I was not totally excited about.

Nonetheless, I would put on a smile for my team, as I had made a promise, and take off for Boston.  We would arrive at the usual Spartan festivities. The upbeat music, racers with medals who were rinsing off, racers like us waiting our turn to get our numbers inked on our arms, shaking out the nerves and drinking the final cups of water. There was the traditional start line,”Who are we?”  “We are Spartans!!”  Three loud “AROO”s and it was time to take off. Up and down the rocky hills of the ATV park on a sunny day. It wasn't all that bad, the company was good, and well, at least I didn't see any lightning.

I don't know what it is

Something in me just won't give me a chance

Then we saw it about 6 miles in. The slip wall. Well at least it was not muddy. Then again it wasn’t muddy the first time I saw it in WV either and I still couldn't do it. Switching into Mama Shark mode, I would put my fears on hold and cheer my teammates on, as one by one they ran at full speed and grabbed the rope, up and over. To be honest, yes I was cheering them on, but more accurate was I was procrastinating for what I knew would be my own failure. Watching each one nail the obstacle I thought great. I was going to be the only one here who couldn't do it.  Why did they make this look so easy, when it seemed so hard for me? I found the,"I can't" that I thought was only in my head suddenly audible  Not only that, my teammate heard. Great. Failing as a motivator too.

Little child, did you know that there's a light,

And its gonna shine right through your eyes

Trying to shine a little light my way, I would hear my teammate say “No!  Your shoes will totally grip this.”  Really? Cleated obstacle shoes on a smooth wall?  Seems legit.  Not.  Lost in the sea of negativity between my two ears I would suddenly realize my teammate ahead of me had paused at the top of the wall and was yelling to me. She threw me the rope. "You got this!" She was not going down until I gave a shot. Afraid of disappointing my team, I found myself running straight at the thing I was so afraid of. The thing I failed so many times before, only this time I had it. I  reached down part way up and actually gripped the rope my teammate threw to me, stood up and walked to the top as my team cheered me on. As I got over the wall I paused at the top to yell to my son,”Did you see that?! Oh my God I did it.!”

 He did what he always does. Smiled and said he saw with a simple,”Good job Mom”. Later I would learn he got it all on GoPro complete with my cheerful well placed F bomb the moment I realized the rope was actually in my hand for the first time in 12 races.

Well some where over there there's a purpose

There's a care for free

We would go on to finish the race.  For me it was a total of 16 miles on a super course this year, 7 in Chicago and 9 in Boston to finally earn this medal. A hard fought battle for sure. Looking back at the slip wall, I am reminded of the person who threw me the rope and knew with 100% certainty I would join her at the top, no matter what it was my brain had to say.  There was the other teammate trying to shine their own light my way when it all seemed so hard.  How many times in life are we blind to those in our lives who are always willing to toss us a much needed rope and have faith in our ability to grab on.  How many times are we blind to those who stand directly in front of us who have the ability to shine enough light our way, that our own fire is lit to blaze a path to much greater things?

Hold me, hold me 'cause I want to get higher and higher,

Higher than life

Maybe the trick is to swallow the fear, run full speed at the things we doubt the most, and allow the rope throwers and fire starters to remove our own blindness due to past failure, and start to believe no matter what came first, we all have the ability to scale the proverbial impossible walls of life with a boldness we never dreamed of before. Only then will we see what is truly possible and absolutely know the best is yet to come.

Smash and Grab, Losing the Tools of the Trade

I have been a nurse practitioner for 18 years, and one thing I have learned is as providers we develop a nerdlike obsession with the tools of our trade.  For example, my first ten years in practice was in neurosurgery.  My beloved mentor taught me the only tools for appropriate neurological examination were the 128 cps weighted tuning fork, much longer than a standard tuning fork, and the long handled Queens Squarehead reflex hammer.  The irony of said hammer is that it is actually round.  It was explained to me it was named for the town in England where  it was invented.  Nonetheless, learning to use these specific tools proved to offer accurate neurological exams every time. 

After ten years of neurosurgery, I made my triumphant return to the emergency room, where I had to add to my tool collection, a stethoscope.  Not just any stethoscope.  I did my homework and bought what most medical professionals had, a Littman.  A Littman lightweight II.  Yes, there were others above and below this model, but this is what I wanted.  Longer tubing than the more expensive Cardiology 3, and, well, it came in purple.  The new tool of my trade. That Littman and I have practiced for eight years together.  Tried and true listening to wheezy lungs, bruits and heart murmurs.  An extension of me in my work life. Let us not forget, one more thing in my field, the ever important work bag.  In 18 years of practice, I had received a variety of free bags from vendors and institutions celebrating nurse practitioner week and things, mostly low end bags that needed replacing by the time I was offered another.  However, two years ago, I received the mother of all bags.  The high end back pack with a padded pocket for a laptop, and multiple pockets for my tools.  I suppose I get nerdy over this stuff the way someone who has an actual office would be about the art on the wall.  Yes, I had finally hit the sweet spot in work gear.  That is until it was gone.

Just a young gun with a quick fuse,

I was uptight, 

Wanna let loose

A week and a half ago, I would walk out of the hotel I was staying in for work, headphones on, Imagine Dragons playing, gearing up for another shift when I would see it.  Something was wrong.  My car didn't look right.  As I approached the driver's side, I saw an odd shaft of light on the seats, there was glass, lots of glass.... it took me a minute to get my mind to focus, my passenger window had a hole in it.  My work bag was gone.  The tricks of my trade were gone. I had mistakenly left my wallet in there, as I had a two hour commute plus a ten hour day the day before and was tired.  Yes, that was gone too explaining the "did you try to use your card at WalMart at 3:00 am?" message from Capitol One I had received. I would go back into the hotel in a panic.  The desk person immediately pulled out notebooks looking for protocols or something.  I heard myself saying,"you don't need a protocol.  Put it down and call the police!"  Admittedly, it came out harsher than I planned as did the conversations that followed by bystanders who would ask me what happened as I stood waiting on police. 

Thunder, feel the thunder,

Lightning and the thunder,

Who do you think you are?

Dreaming 'bout being a big star?

 I was flustered and angry, trying to cancel credit cards while I waited for police, getting my head around that these people  had several forms of ID for me now.  My whole identity was now at the mercy of these thieves.  Police would come and try to provide reassurance that these were likely kids who really only want money and not my expired passport they made off with, explaining this is all too common, as with the way the law is they get away with it.  We would finish the report and I would go on to drive to work in a car seat, despite my best effort was still loaded with shards of glass.  I would also have no purple Littman, only a disposable stethoscope from the clinic drawer that had awful acoustics and hurt my ears.  In between seeing patients, I would quickly hop on Amazon and order the first reasonably priced Littman I could find and see about something better later.  

Thunder, feel the thunder,

Lightning and the thunder

The day felt completely out of control.  I was not working in the greatest city that day either. My insurance could not find someone out there to secure the glass.  It was a busy patient day made more stressful by walking to the door every few mins to be sure no one else tried to get into my car.  Then it happened.  The phone call from the sargeant,"Amy.  I have your stuff."  By some stroke of luck, many of my belongings had been recovered in an abandoned stolen vehicle.

Have a seat in the foyer, take a number,

I was lightning before the thunder

Friday, I had to return to the same area for work.  I would find myself at the police department after my shift being fingerprinted in front of the holding cell.  They had recovered my stolen Capitol One card and needed to know which prints on it were mine.  I would then proceed to the crime lab to recover my belongings.  I was presented with contents of my work bag found in a baby seat of the stolen car, the bag was gone.  I was also given all the contents of my wallet including all of my identifying information.  Although, this should have been a relief, the gravity of strangers busting into my space and rooting through all of my things had me suddenly have a deep emotional understanding as to what it is to be the victim of a crime.  

A good night of rest and on to my shift on Saturday, I would find I had to use my fancy bag I use for my foundation.  It has our original embroidered logo, with our original tag line, and references our 2018 race team.  At first, I didn't want to use this bag.  It was a really nice bag I use for my business.  Then again, things have changed.  It is not 2018.  Our logo has changed and we have a whole new tagline.  We have big hairy goals and have grown by leaps and bounds since then with huge events on the horizon.  Maybe, it's time to consider this my "free bag" and order a new one for the business. 

I would pull out my new Littman.  It wasn't purple.  It was a different model, as I was in a panic when I ordered it.  Wait a minute though.  It was bronze and brown.  Super sharp.  I had to admit it had amazing acoustics, with soft tubing as it hung around my neck and suddenly I realized I really liked it.  Tonight, as I finally had the wherewithal to remove my stolen items from my car I would see the purple stethoscope.  It was in a bag with words like "larceny" and "evidence".  The left earpiece is cracked and has been, the tubing is stiff and drying out from being sanitized multiple times a day for eight years, and in areas there is a dingy that will never go away.  

                                     

I was dreaming of bigger things,

and want to leave my old life behind

Thunder, thunder

Thunder, thun', thunder

The glass guy ultimately told me the shatter proof window I had meant someone worked extra hard that day to bust into my world and shake things up.  However,  I am beginning to think that sometimes that is exactly what we need if we are going to stop clinging so tightly to things that do not work as well as they once did, and missing the possibility that something greater exists.  Oh yes, my new foundation bag is on the way symbolizing where we are headed, and I will have the old one with me at work at all times to remind me of where we began and yes, I am  not ashamed to admit that I am enjoying a raging thunderous nerd attack surrounding my sexy new stethoscope.   In all, I certainly cannot say that being the victim of a crime is a great thing, it feels vulnerable and even painful at times, but it has taught me with new eyes to see that the best is yet to come.