Recently I’ve been kind of slinking around emotionally in my Olympic Lifting (oly) classes because my coach and I discussed me trying out an USAW meet in February of this year. I’ve been attending oly classes twice a week (which is as often as they’re held at CFN), just working on technique and trying to improve my speed in general, thinking maybe I would dip my toes in for the February meet. Why not, right? I always train better when I have goals in mind anyway…

My coach really started to encourage me to compete, and he said something to the effect of, “Let’s just try a meet. What’s the worst that can happen? Competing is really different than anything else, so you have to go in knowing you likely won’t place and just go to appreciate the experience. Get a feel for the environment.”

Finally I decided to check out the website for the meet, and I noticed that it only listed “School Age” and “Masters” levels for the event. I mentioned it to my coach and he told me not to worry about it, and that he was sure they had my bracket as well.

Fast forward to last Wednesday. I was getting a little antsy that I hadn’t heard anything from my coach about confirming that they had my division… I asked him if I needed any particular attire for the meet, hoping to get some more answers. He mentioned my question to another one of my coaches, who was also planning to compete in the meet, and it was then that I found out that the bracket for both of us (we’re one year apart) was not going to be included at the meet. I kind of shrugged it off in class, but I was really bummed out. I had gotten kind of hyped up for the whole thing, you know?

However, instead of being bummed for too long, I decided to pop on the internet and see what else was coming up. I figured there had to be something else in March or April that I could shoot for, right?

Well…. there was a meet nearby alright. Only about 45 minutes away. The only problem was… it was in 11 days. I sent it to my coach… and the below is our conversation:

So yeah. I decided to inquire about lifting in my first meet ELEVEN DAYS from the meet date. UM WHAT.

Friday morning I called to order that singlet… after getting a text from my coach making sure to inquire about the thickness of the singlet material so I don’t flash anyone. *GREAT* As if I wasn’t nervous enough about making this call and sounding like a beginner crossfitter moron, now I have to ask whoever answers the phone about the MATERIAL OF THE SINGLET. I have never even SAID THE WORD SINGLET BEFORE IN MY LIFE. Yeah. Ok. Great. I made the call that morning and I recorded my thoughts after getting off the phone for your reading pleasure. Here you go:

Oh my god. I just ordered my first singlet. I think I might throw up. That was the most nerve wracking phone call and I felt so out of place calling and asked 97283492 questions. “Is the fabric thick enough so my butt won’t show through?” Seriously? I can’t believe I had to ask someone that on the phone. Luckily I had a super nice female sales associate who went and checked out the density of the material for me while I was on hold. Thank you, kind, wonderful and generous human. Thank you also for not laughing at me because I need this for EIGHT DAYS FROM NOW and have no idea what I’m doing and am rush shipping this mess so I will even HAVE IT IN TIME FOR MY MEET.

Dear god, what am I doing?

YEP. There’s that. I hope you enjoyed that emotional freakout. I’m sure there are many more of those to come in the next few days since I have NO IDEA WHAT I AM DOING.

Oh. Here’s a picture on the right of the singlet I ordered. Mine’s going to be purple. Because PURPLE. It will be here tomorrow.

So, am I competing?

That’s the question, right?

I spent ALL WEEKEND freaking out about this (my coach and I had both called and not heard back), until I finally emailed the meet coordinator last night, because I remembered that my college volleyball coach never checked his voicemail but he ALWAYS checked his email. I got a message back about 30 minutes after I emailed, saying that as long as I met the total for my weight class, I could compete! Uhhh… I make the weight class by 9#(!!!)… but I don’t have any previous USAW meet experience to prove that, which is also a requirement… I wrote that back to the meet director and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. Finally I forced myself to go to sleep last night… and I got an email this morning saying that I CAN COMPETE. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I pretty much almost threw up out of nervousness for about 2 hours. I’m still kind of shaking and freaking out. FREAKING. OUT.

What in the nine hells do I think I’m doing?! I can’t. AHH. But whatever. I have to start somewhere, right? Soultwin said today that we’ve gotta make, “started from the bottom, now we’re here” our mantra for this year. So you know what? Ok. Started from the bottom. Like the BOTTOM.

Yeah. That’s it for now. I’m going to go continue losing my ish. In silence. Alone. Because I can’t even with this.

(P.S. Thanks Michelle for inspiring the title for this blog. I adore your face.)