A bit of failure -- 5k a Day -- Days 17 and 18

I'm almost glad I didn't complete this challenge 100% perfectly, because it gives me a chance to address that.

Day 17 (take 1)

On Sunday, we rolled out of the tent and into the freshly-rain-washed campground, headed up to the central office, and signed up for tubing.  We had just enough time to read a chapter in our books (it felt so good to read for pleasure after boards.  I read some real brain candy, The Red Queen, by Victoria Aveyard, and it was so nice to not read something for school), and then packed up the cooler and headed to the river.  It was about a 4-5 hour tubing trip down the Rifle River.   The trip started out cloudy and about 73°, so not the most ideal tubing weather, but it ended up warming up nicely.

The trip was incredible.  We were so relaxed and lazy, I even dozed off once.  Paul amused himself by using sticks to steer us and get us out of tangles.  It was cool enough that it wasn't until the sun really came out from behind the clouds (after about 3 hours) that we thought about applying the sunscreen we had brough with us, which we did with great purpose.

And by then it was too late.  Guys, cloudy days can still burn ya!  My shoulders and face were okay because they're already mildly tanned, by my poor pasty white legs were burned from below my knees up to the tops of my thighs.  That's an uncomfortable feeling.  Paul fared even worse -- he looks like a lobster on the front of him.

It was stupid of us -- we both believe in sun safety and protecting your skin.  We're a little embarrassed we failed to take care of ourselves!

Anyhow, we hobbled back to camp after our trip, and took turns pulling the heat out of our burns with towels soaked in the spring water the camp pipes up, which was ice cold.  Repeat, repeat, repeat, do it more.  Paul's feet were so burned he couldn't even put shoes on.

There was no 5k gonna be happening that evening.  Neither of us felt like we could physically do it with our burns.  No workout, either.

Day 18 (take 2)

We crawled (slowly) out of our tent, testing the tensile strength of our burned skin. 

We (slowly) packed up camp and loaded the car.

We headed west to Houghton Lake, MI, where some friends of ours have a cabin, and we had committed to hanging out with them the last day of our vacation.  This was awesome cause:

a) they are awesome people

b) they have a boat

c) they have tubes for their boat

This was not awesome because:

a) we were both still incredibly burned

Poor Paul.  Walking was painful for him.  But we slathered up with aloe, lidocaine, and sunscreen, and decided we could handle sitting on the boat.  The water felt amazing on our burns, and we even got in a tiny bit of tubing, but the plastic tube was too brutal for our skin.  Also, I forgot that when wearing pigtails, one should apply sunscreen to one's hair part.  Or one's scalp will be painful to use a comb on.

By the time we got home last night, it was 9.  I unpacked the car while Paul reapplied lidocaine to his legs, and we passed out early.  Pain and a busy day = no 5k, no workout.

Not quite as planned

So there it is guys.  Two days where I didn't get my 5k or workout in.  I'll be doing a 5k tonight hopefully, and it'll be Day 17, version 2.0.  I did get over 10000 steps each day I didn't do the 5k, but it doesn't fall into the spirit of this challenge.

So what can I learn from this?

First of all -- if you fail to plan, you plan to fail.  Yup, cliché but true.  I didn't plan for hiking/running paths when we booked our campsite (which was done last-minute).  By not making the 5k a priority in our planning, it because incredibly hard to do.

It's about intention -- from having to substitute a workout bike for 2 days to meandering around camp for the 5k, I still did the "active" portion of this challenge those days by intentionally completing a 5k.  Rigorous adherence to rules is less important than intention, especially in an active challenge.

Falling off the horse is one thing -- watching it run away from you is another.

We're all going to make mistakes.  We're all going to fail to meet goals.  What is just as important is what happens next. Do we say "oh, I failed to do part N, so forget about parts O-Z"?  Nope.  Getting back on the horse is just as important a habit to build as these 30 day challenges.  Not letting that small failure turn into a bigger one is good practice at preventing negative thinking and self-sabotage.

Ever been on a diet and gone over your calorie limit for the day?  What are your choices?

Choice A) Figure out how to "earn" those calories back in your bank with a workout deposit.

Choice B) Say "whoops", and stop right there, being gentile with yourself.

Choice C) Say "fuck it", and go get that Chipotle burrito with everything on it, followed by Coldstone Creamery ice cream for dessert, and snack on chips during your Netflix binge, because it's already screwed up.

I'd say choices A and B are both perfectly fine!  Choice C is what we have to train ourselves to avoid.  It's self-sabotage at its best.  And it doesn't mean you don't hold yourself to stringent standards, or that you're "accepting failure".  You're accepting your human-ness.  Which is probably a good thing to come to terms with, since it probably won't be changing any time soon.

So today I practice chasing down that horse and getting back on, even when I missed two days of this challenge.  

Bonus pictures:

You can already see the red starting on my chest.

Our little cooler is seen floating in the background