I planned #30for30 in a coffee shop in Dunbar with my friend Claire.
I had decided that I needed to ‘do’ something to sort of get myself back in the game again. It had been a weird year, lots of stress, I’d forced myself to stop training in a bid to regain control of my disordered thoughts and processes but I was missing training, missing being focused, missing ‘something’.
I don’t want to be boring. I don’t want to be normal. Is what I said to my Mum when I explained to her that I was going to do 52 events in a year. She is much more measured than me and talked me down to 30 events which in hindsight was the right call. Mums always know best right?
#30for30 saved my life, that’s not even an exaggeration. It dragged me out of a hole I didn’t even know I was in.
I don’t want to be ordinary. It’s not for me. Extraordinary is what I am chasing. For myself, for my kids. For experiences, for memories, for living.
I don’t think I’m a very good parent most of the time. I don’t bake with my kids, I hate the mess and the fact they don’t measure things properly. I don’t do crafts, hate the mess and the fact they can’t colour between the lines. I don’t remember all the things that happen at school, and now I’ve quit Facebook it’s worse. I don’t know how to navigate this preteen stage that #1 is in. I worry because they fight a lot and I constantly have to tell them to turn their volumes down. I spend my life cleaning because they’re really messy and I think that’s maybe a failure on my part. I lie in bed at night and worry about all the things I’ve not done and haven’t fed them and the fact #2 hates cleaning her teeth and that #3 doesn’t emotionally regulate well and threw a chair last week.
And then I remember the time we all got in the car and we drove to London and went to Legoland and then went to Essex and rolled about in the mud and then drove home.
And then I remember that we went to the Lakes camping and I ran a fuckton of miles and we camped and we hung out and we had the best time.
We went to Switzerland and climbed mountains.
We’ve done extraordinary things whilst also being really normal and mundane at the same time. So maybe the fact I don’t remember world book day isn’t really the end of the world when we all go to bed at night knowing we love each other and we’re all happy.
I’ve not really been extraordinary recently. Everything got really mundane and the balance tipped and I’ve been scrabbling around wondering what the hell is actually wrong with me and it hit me quite suddenly.
I’ve stopped believing I can be extraordinary.
I’ve stopped even looking for extraordinary moments
And whilst I am absolutely ok with 90% of my life being a bit mundane and governed by work and extra curricular activities and making sure the kids brush their teeth I’ve somehow forgotten about the other 10% which is where the ‘don’t be boring’ bit is meant to come in.
And I’ve been wandering about moaning that ugh well my relationship ended, and I’ve just not got ‘time’ to exercise and I just can’t be bothered’ to track my calories and woe is me the sperm donor has been given access to #3 and bla bla bla bla bla. And let’s be really clear here, all of that stuff is just life. And it’s all just excuses to wallow in my own pity, playing my violin feeling bloody sorry for myself. And I HATE that.
I think the time has come to draw a line under the boring and ordinary thanks. I think there needs to be some sparkle again, some extraordinary moments.
I’m not sure what or how. But 2020 needs to be about adventure. I really have a massive burning desire to reignite the fire that I hadn’t even realise had gone out.
Life is amazing, life is precious. Life isn’t going to stop happening.
Don’t wait for the extraordinary. BE the extraordinary.