You see, will is a funny thing for me, and I've been thinking a lot about it lately (more on that below).
I tell myself that I'm strong-willed, that I'm independent, that I'm driven with a will of steel. But the truth of the matter is, my will is rather weak. But no one likes to say that they're weak willed. No one wants to admit that uncomfortable truth.
But I can't escape it.
As I spin my legs on the bike, staring intently at the numbers on my computer screen--willing them to stay stable--as the lactic acid builds up in my thighs, I am battling my will. Everything in me is shouting: STOP! Those little voices that always lurk in the back of my mind come to the fore, and I doubt my abilities; my brain tells me: "just stop now," "you've done enough," "this is good enough," "no need to keep going," "why not take a break?" They always want to sabotage me (showing up during my first and second half marathon races and my first ever bike race), and it is all I can do to shore up my weak will to fight off these little inner voices.
As I say, will is a funny thing.
I'm trying not to think about my indoor Time Trial tomorrow, because I know that more than a test of the strength of my legs and lungs, it will be a test of my will. Can I simply force myself to do it? I've failed in the past (like this one in August here and this one in November here). I've given in to those voices before. I don't want to again.
No one wants to be the type of person to be weak willed. We all have heroic visions of ourselves in our heads. I would be the one to stand up to the Nazis when they came knocking on my door, hiding countless unfortunates in my basement, my walls, my attic. I would be the one to say "NO" to oppression and defend the woman being belittled by her husband in public. I would be the one to run into a burning building to save a child. No one wants to be the one who just stands by and pretends not to notice something happening. I don't want to be that person, so as I struggle with my will on the bike, it's much more than just a girl trying to ride a bike. I'm struggling with myself and who I want to be in the world. My struggle to keep my legs spinning no matter what my head is saying is a struggle with each pedal stroke to get me closer and closer to the type of person I aspire to be.
For sport--and training in particular--gives you a chance to struggle with yourself and decide who you want to be in the world, what your legacy will be.
Heck, if I thought struggling with myself on my bike made me look at my inner self and that was hard, drafting up a will is even harder...it's one of those adult things that makes you stop and take stock of your life: what are the things that will be left behind as your legacy? Who will you leave things to? What have you accumulated so far? It's funny to come up with a list of your jewelry, your investments, your art, and things that you think it worth mentioning in a will as the other things--your big screen TV, your cool coffee maker, your mongo BBQ--become nothing more than material possessions, not worth a mention as part of your legacy. As you go through the process of itemizing things and thinking about them, you can't help but think about who you are and what will be left of you when you're gone. It is a very strange process, and I'm glad that I did it now when I'm young and healthy, because I think that the act of drafting a will one day when my mortality is more than just a mere thought a long way away might just be too much to handle.
I've said it before: will is a funny thing.
Over and out,
Joy
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