Geronimo

      Ever have those days (weeks?) where you just feel like you NEED to do something, anything?  I've been feeling this way lately.  It's so oxymoronic, because I'm SO very tired and pulled in 15 different directions.  I think what I'm missing is that usually at this time of year, my daughter's All Star cheer competition season is finally starting and every week is spent preparing for the weekend.  Bows, bells, air horns, glittered signs, glittered makeup, glitter EVERYTHING. Costco runs for cases of energy drinks (for me), "Mom's Fierce-Aid bag" with all the extras that anyone might need, and of course, lots of hot tea with lemon and honey for soothing throats sore from yelling and screaming for hours.  She quit after last season.
     I'll be honest-I cried.

    You may look upon cheer leading as a bunch of boy-crazed morons that are so superficial they would think the word "introspective" was some new....."position".  All Star cheer is so very, very, different than this.  So much so that you could make the analogy that comparing "rah-rah" cheer leading to All Star cheer is like comparing Anna Nicole Smith to Einstein, respectively.  All Star cheer DEMANDS, and I seriously means DEMANDS, top physical shape, multi-tasking, graceful coordination, the utter defiance of gravity, and you must do all this with a smile on your face within two and a half minutes, inside the big white box.  Anyway, there has long been the debate 'Is cheer a sport?' and while I'm very much on the Pro side of this debate, this is not the point of this here post.  Here, is the point:

I miss being a cheer mom.

    There.  It's out.  I said it.  I MISS those crazy weekends and the 5 days a week at the gym, the other two at some cold (or sweltering) arena for 15 hrs a day, the glitter (oh the glitter!), the early morning rush, the tired sore aching arms/legs/voices/backs (and I mean mine, not my daughter's).  It was all honestly, so much fun.  I loved helping her get ready, seeing her all ready to compete, sitting with my other "cheer moms" and laughing and joking around.  I miss watching her out on that floor, a smile that could light up even the darkest of rooms, and talent-oh the talent she had!  She was tumbling at an elite level (which is part of the reason I cried when she quit).  My stomach in my throat, hoping they hit every stunt, tumbling pass, and jump.  Then when they did the rush of pride and excitement (imagine your favorite sports team winning the-Stanley Cup, Super Bowl, World Series, NBA Finals, World Cup, etc.-yeah it's THAT exciting), it felt like my heart would burst with joy!
     Having been doing since she was 5, and it being a year round sport-no break at all-she finally reached her limit where she just was no longer having fun.  I always told her that if she's not having fun, it's not worth doing.  She won't get a scholarship to college for cheer (she's too tall already), she's not going to be a "professional cheerleader", so this is all just for fun.  It's so very odd to be sitting here, Friday night, NOT preparing for a 5am wake up for and hour+ drive tomorrow morning.  I began to realize how 'itchy' I was tonight, when she was getting ready to go to the District Championship game for the high school's football team.  My hubby was taking her and a friend, so she quickly got ready by putting glitter streaks on her cheeks in the school's colors.  I looked at her and just thought (cue the little girl voice in my head) GLITTER!!!!ILOVEGLITTEROMGGLITTERGLITTERMORE!!YOUNEEDMOREGLITTER!!
I tried very hard to keep my mouth shut, but the stupid giddy smile I had on my face kinda gave me away.  She looks at me and says, "I know, isn't it awesome?!" and points to her cheeks.  She's still a cheerleader at heart (and she knows me OH so well).
       So, this got me thinking.  How do I squelch this itch for excitement?  Bungee jump?  Skydive?  Extreme spelunking?  Flash mobbing??  Ugh.  I could, but 1) I'm broke 2) I might want excitement, but the kind where I'm sure I'll still be alive at the end.  I've been toying with an idea for a while now, inspired by my very awesome sister.  She's a runner.  I have to overcome very similar issues that she had, and she worked her ass off to get there.  She's run 3 marathons this year, and I've lost count of her total run.
      I'm going to run a marathon next year.

     Ok.  It's in print.  I can't back out now.  I will start training, in multiple ways, and my hope is to run the Marine Corps Marathon with her next fall.  There's several other small runs (5k/15k's) that I want to run in the coming months also, but for fun mostly.  She'll kick my ass and be waiting for hours at the finish line for me, but we'll have so much fun-and that's the thrill of it all.  All the training, the sore legs, backs, arms, knees, all building up to reaching that finish line after 26.2 miles get pounded beneath my feet.

     So worth it.

     So, as I seem to be making my resolution a month early, I don't really have anything else to say but

GERONIMO.