It's Gonna Hurt!

Recently, while out for a run, I witnessed something that really made me think. I was on the loop back to my house when I came across a yard where a lady was comfortably ensconced in the shade, in a lawn chair. A little boy was standing in the sun a couple of feet in front of her. I say standing, but I actually mean he was jumping up and down, waving his arms, and animatedly describing something to the lady.

I couldn’t hear the words the boy was saying but I could hear the excitement in his voice. As I came closer to the yard, the little boy began bouncing on his toes with his arms clutched to his chest. He looked like a coiled spring all ready to explode. He finished his pitch to lawn chair lady and as I came up to the yard, I clearly heard her say, “Oh, but that’s gonna hurt!”

And just like that, all the energy in that coiled spring was gone. Arms drooped to the side. All bouncing stopped. Head tipped forward toward the ground.

I recognized the look. I’d seen it enough in my own kids whenever I told them any one of 10,000 perfectly good reasons why they shouldn’t do something. I’d seen it in my own face when I let someone talk me out of something that I really truly wanted to do.

Let me ask you, why shouldn’t we do things that hurt? I can understand that purposely damaging ourselves is a really bad idea, but what if pain is a pathway to something great? What if putting up with being a little uncomfortable or inconvenienced is going to bring strength, excitement, or even glory??

I broke a bone once and having it set, really hurt, but it would have healed wrong if they didn’t set it. I’ve received shots that hurt but they made me feel better or even protected me from disease. I’ve donated blood. That’s a hurt that is so good for other people! I’ve been through some tough relationships that hurt, and even ending them hurt. Next week, I’m moving to Chicago. It’s hurting to leave my home state and my friends, but this is going to be a great adventure and wonderful new life.

Lately, I’ve been getting up at four in the morning to go workout in a field in the dark with a bunch of other pain worshipers in Brundage Boot Camp, and baby that hurts!! Yesterday, when my daughter exclaimed over my “traps”, I knew it was worth the pain of those early morning workouts.

Sometimes, the things that hurt are the best things for us. We gain knowledge, experience, strength, zest for life, a new outlook, and most importantly, new friends. I wish I could take back those times I discouraged my kids with my dour pain predictions. All I can do now is set a good example for them.

Today, my BBC friends and I, are heading to North Plains to take on the Oregon Warrior Dash. There will be mud, fire, logs in a pond, cargo nets, walls, lots of running, and glory. We will arrive on the battlefield ready to attack. As we head to the starting line, we will go forth proudly knowing that THIS IS GONNA HURT!!!

Packing for Chicago

Today, I’m packing.

I know, I’ve been supposedly packing all week, but really all I’ve been doing is rearranging stuff. I hate packing.

Every item I pick up is a decision to be made.

Do I keep it? Sell it? Toss it? If it’s paper do I recycle it? Toss it? Shred it? Use it to wrap other stuff?

What size box do I need? Should I get the giant one to pack everything or a bunch of little ones so they are easy to carry? Should I just throw it all into a big garbage bag???

Not only do I have those decisions, I have to decide how soon I will need each item.

If I’m donating it to the Brundage Boot Camp yard sale, I have to put it in the car today and drop it off tomorrow at Friday Fun Day in Springfield. Easy.

If I need it in the next three days, for work or cooking, I can’t pack it just yet. 

If I am taking it in four days to my daughter in Portland, I can pack it but I can’t put it in my car yet (because of the yard sale stuff, it would be bad to mix those things up) so her things have to sit in my storage shed.

If I don’t need it in the next two weeks but will need it in the next month or so, then it goes into suitcases to take to Steve who will be flying it to Chicago, in four days . . . along with my cat, which I can’t pack until the day I go to Portland.

There are also the things I will need off and on over the course of the next two weeks but I have to get them out of my 5^th wheel by next week when the consignment lot people will be coming to get it. I have been living in this for the past four years. Fifth wheels will hold more crap than you think!

Anyway, those items will need to either go into my storage shed, or my storage unit (in an entirely different town!) or into my suitcase/car to take to my friend Julie’s house, where I will be staying for a couple of days. Then I need to take some stuff up to my daughter’s in Portland (again, but my own stuff this time) where I will be staying for a couple days while I run the Warrior Dash on September 10^th! (Yay, for the WD!!!) When I return to Julie’s, I have to load things up in my car to drive to Chicago. Since I will be staying in Iowa for a few days on the way, I will of course need things there!!

However, before I leave for good on the 13^th for Chicago, everything that has been shoved into my storage shed will need to be taken to my storage UNIT where it will sit, costing me forty bucks a month until I can come back and haul it home. To Chicago.

On top of this packing and decision-making, I still have a 40-hour workweek to squeeze in over this coming weekend, more good-bye social visits (including a wake-boarding expedition), not to mention the two Portland trips, and, of course, my dad’s Trailerhood Poker Game!

I HAVE to go to dad’s poker night. I will miss my dad immensely! I have worked at the sawmill with him for the past ten and a half years, and have felt very lucky to do so.

There are a lot of great people at the sawmill. I will miss them terribly, as well. I’ll miss the sawfilers who have taught me so much and become my friends. I’ll miss my little sister and her three beautiful kids. I’ll miss my mom and her obnoxious little dogs. I’ll miss my fellow bootcampers, even Matt. I’ll miss Julie and Lori and all my friends. I’ll miss my cozy corner of the trailer park and my pretty little 5^th wheel with my shaded little yard and my pretty pink flamingos. I’ll miss hiking Mt. Pisgah. I’ll miss Oregon.

I think I found the real problem with finishing my packing.

When the packing is done . . . the leaving begins.