Setting New Records

So, the thing is... I'm trying to break some longstanding records.

I was talking to a friend about sports and training and I mentioned that my husband and I had gone to the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta and what an uplifting experience it was. We talked about the amazing records that were broken then and that have been broken since and I shook my head. "Wouldn't you think," I said, "that at some point we would reach the limit as to how fast a human being can run a mile? And yet the records keep getting broken."

"You know," said my friend, "it's been proven that most of that is in our heads. One person will break the record and then suddenly TEN people will break it."

Gosh, I didn't know that! Don't you think that's AMAZING? Think about what that means in terms of the human psyche and how we limit our accomplishments based on false boundaries that we create in our minds. I guess it sort of goes along with the whole psychological concept of self talk -you know, the one that says if we hear negative things for long enough we begin to believe them, even when the voice is coming from our own insecurity.

I have a recent example of this, actually. All of my life I told myself (and others) that I had no artistic ability. I could barely draw a stick figure. I used to do a lot of graphics work on the computer as part of my job but I was firmly convinced that when it came to anything like painting a picture or drawing one freehand, that I was a total washout.

Well.

This summer, I finally painted my four-year-old daughter's room. She's very into Thomas the Tank Engine and she wanted a Thomas-themed room. I painted the room a pale, pale blue and then she started asking for a picture of Thomas on her walls. I kept trying to steer her toward a SPACE theme (I can draw stars and planets) or something that I'd be able to find in a store somewhere but she was adamant. Thomas or nothing.

So, I decided, with fear and trepidation, to try to do it myself. Ana was just so sure I could do it and frankly, I'm not ready for her to learn just exactly how mortal I am. (I wonder if this is how Michelangelo got started on the Sistine Chapel? I can just see his little girl saying, "I want ANGELS! And I want them all over the CEILING!") Anyway, I found a picture of Thomas I liked and I tried to sketch it on the wall. It took me about two weeks (using Jane's nap time and dragging every single visitor up to Ana's room to offer advice) to draw the darn thing. And then I painted it and was just amazed that it turned out so well! I was so happy with it and it was so much fun that I kept painting until I added this really obnoxious background which I probably have to paint over now.

Ana was really happy with it. She said "thank you" and "I love you." And then she wanted me to paint James the RED engine. (And then she got really tired of the whole thing and hid all my brushes.)

I still think no one would confuse me with a professional artist but I learned that something I THOUGHT was beyond me really wasn't at all. (And the other thing I learned is that children aren't really the harshest art critics in the world.)

This tiny victory led me to think that I should dispel ALL of my assumptions about myself. Which is a roundabout way of explaining how I got involved in a women's triathlon training class, which will be kicking my behind for the next four weeks.

Really, I blame my husband. See, he participated in HIS first triathlon over Memorial Day and it was just so inspirational -there were people of every size, shape, color, age and gender participating. Most people don't compete with the field at large but rather with themselves, which is just such a cool and Zen thing. All those people digging deep within themselves to race in this event just to DO it. And then the elite athletes, the ones who compete professionally, were just such beautiful specimens of the human body. It was really motivating.

So, flushed by my success as a painter, I signed up for this four-week training course. It's supposedly geared to someone of my (complete and utter lack of) proficiency but a lot of the participants have already done at least one triathlon and are trying to improve their form. I haven't been on a bike in almost seven years. I haven't swum laps since high school. I've never competed in a foot race of any length.

And yet here I am, see. I, who, in fourth grade in my new school in Texas, got put into a basketball game by the PE teacher because I was the tallest girl in my class. The coach sort of pointed me at the basket and I ran all the way down the court with the ball tucked under my arm. He took me back out of the game unceremoniously and my whole class laughed at me and I began to get the idea that maybe I wasn't very athletic.

After that, I chose my exercise carefully. In junior high, I took up distance running -a solitary sport since I never competed. (Nor did I ever actually run at a competitive pace, for that matter.) In high school and college, I taught aerobics -also not a team sport. No one in my family is very athletic, except my middle brother, who can still (at the age of forty-something) do a round-off-back-flip in my mom's front yard when so moved.

So, anyway, I started realizing that I'd simply never challenged the assumption about my athletic ability. And then I started to wonder about all the other ways in which I limit myself, thinking that I'm not good at something because of something someone said to me in grade school.

And then, of course, I started thinking about all the implications this has for my kids. How many times have I said, in front of Ana, "Ana's not a good eater." or "Ana tends to be shy."? How much damage have I done, how many seeds have I planted that are now flourishing in the rich soil of a sensitive child's psyche? Is Jane totally fearless and a daredevil because she was born that way or because she's heard me say it so many times in front of her (as I am pulling her back from the brink of disaster?) Would she have slept through the night much sooner if I hadn't always announced she was "my bad sleeper?"

I guess it works both ways. I've also said unceasingly that my kids are smart and funny and brave and thoughtful and they continue to live up to those traits. At least they try. But I've started to really watch how I talk about them in front of them. And I'm trying to pay attention to how I talk about myself.

I've heard it said that our taste buds renew themselves every seven years. I don't know if this is true but wouldn't it be interesting if our potential does the same thing but our confidence can't keep up? I suddenly discovered that I like sweet potatoes - wouldn't it be interesting if I suddenly discover that I now can swim laps without needing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation? It's such a powerful thing -- challenging our own self-imposed limitations.

Naturally, triumph doesn't come overnight. I can't say that this latest endeavor is exactly coming easily, or that I am comfortable in this class of more experienced athletes. But I think it's an important thing to model for my girls. They need to see that when you commit to something, you have to try as hard as you can. And hopefully, they'll also get the message that we should never limit ourselves based on someone's opinion of us -including our own!

Or, for that matter, based on things that happened a long time ago.

Anyone up for basketball?

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Barbara Cooper is the mother of Ana (4) and Jane (21 months). She lives in Austin, Texas and is really, really, REALLY sore.