Which version wins?

The past, the troll or the future?

You've probably seen many pictures like the ones featured in this post. Smiling faces at a race, time stamps from a race well run. But how often do you get to see the inside of the mind of the person posting them?

Well here here’s your chance to get inside mine for a moment.

(you might want to strap on a helmet; it’s gonna be a ride).

The version of me that signed up for this race was NOT the version that woke up to do the race yesterday. I don’t know how it works for you, but I’ve got several versions of myself running around (literally and figuratively). They have very, very different perspectives on our activities.

I can remember signing up for this race and thinking” “Yes! This is great; it will keep me on track, and I can spend time with my sister and brother-in-law. I LOVE the miler series”.”

Click, click, click, and registration is complete. Another t-shirt and midlife victory awaits.

Fast forward to race morning, a different, less motivated, energetic, and inspired version of Alex wakes up, and the battle begins. It starts with thinking” “Oh dear God, why did I sign up for this? My leg hurts, I’m tired, and I don’t even like running anymore. I am old, and I’m not fast anymore. My ego cannot handle the humiliation of being older, slower, and pudgier. I was delusional when I signed up for this race. I should listen to my body, and my body says it wants a bagel”.”

Is it just me, or do you get annoyed when people suggest you” “listen to your body”? My body, in many instances, is a liar who wants cookies, blankies, and snuggles 90% of the time. If “ “listened to my bo”y” how it wants me to, I’d be made out of chocolate and cheese poofs.

Anyway, I digress, back to the story.

I texted my sister” “We could just go for breakfast instead”.”

Not taking the bait, she texts me back three red emoji hearts.

Dang it.

I tell Clark that I don’t want to do it, and he reminds me that I don’t have to, that I can skip the race and stay home.

Double ugh. ((insert mindless scrolling through Instagram as a means of avoidance)). I watch the clock as I scroll, knowing I need fifteen minutes to put on my running clothes and thirty minutes to drive to meet my sister. Seven fifteen rolls around, and it’s time to move.”

“Accountability stinks,” I mutter as I pull my pajama-clad behind off the couch and slog up the stairs. I get dressed, brush my teeth, and make the bed.

I feel no motivation, no excitement, and nothing. I’m going through the motions.

The thought gets me through” "Future Alex will thank me for this”.”

To be clear, at this point, I dislike future Alex as much and maybe more than past Alex. But I know I'm right, even if I'm annoyed.

I tell myself all the things that one says to push through” “It will only take about thirty minutes.“ “You can buy yourself Starbucks after.”"You'rere not wasting your mone”.”As we drive to the race,

I make my sister laugh with my snark and grumpiness. I stand in the start line with her, and she takes the obligatory selfie you see above. We laugh because we have about a thousand versions of this picture.

Then we run.

And, despite all of my drama, it's a good run.

A solid run.

The trollish version of me melts away, turning into the” “future” me who is grateful I signed up, showed up, and did the dang thing. I should say the trollish version mostly melts away because she popped up when I saw a woman running after the race wearing the race -shirt. Showoff.

Future me drove home, feeling sore but grateful I did the dang thing.

So, what’s the moral of this story? Why the heck should you care?

Because maybe you too, struggle with different “versions” of yourself that show up to help or harm your cause. If you do, I wanted you to know you’re not alone. With some effort, you can squash the troll and move on to the future version of you, even when it’s stupid hard.

Here’s to the future version of you winning more than losing.