I was a little overzealous this morning. It’s payday, so what better way to celebrate than…oh I don’t know…buying shoes, buying clothes, Pottery Barn, Home Depot, registering for several runs? Obviously. So we’ve got ourselves another 5k in April, an 8k in May, and a Quarter Marathon in July. In addition, I’ve figured out one for September, two for October, one for November, and one for December. When all is said and done, if I can get buy-in from my partner in crime Aych, we may be able to have 10 runs under our belts by the end of 2012. I mean seriously?! I’m not even a “runner” for Christ’s sake.
When I was growing up my Mom worked in radio. She worked for the Adult Contemporary station so everyone knew it, everyone’s parents listened to it, and it was totally glamorous and awesome (she’d likely disagree…but I thought so). When I got to seventh grade, however, I realized something quick. While our parents were listening to her station, all the people my age were listening to Top 40 radio. And I wasn’t. I had a lot of catch-up to do!
When Bobby Brown was huge, I begged my Mom for the “Don’t Be Cruel” tape. That’s right youngsters…I said TAPE…and I played it on a Walkman the size of my head. She finally brought it home for me and it was the remix album instead of the original. It didn’t matter, it had the same songs, just way more “d-d-d-d-d-d-d-don’t be cruels” and “r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-ronis” than everyone else’s versions (old remixes sound like they messed up in the studio instead of deliberately remixing). In my mind, it was the bomb and it was special because it was the remix version, but in other people’s minds I didn’t have the right tape. The one everyone else had.
In high school I was not the skinniest, or the blondest, or the preppiest, or the most alternative. I was a happy medium of it all. I was friendly with all sorts of people but never felt like I was in the “in” crowd. And while I remember sometimes feeling like I just wanted so badly to be a smidge more something, for the most part I felt pretty okay, if not great about myself.
In college my best friend looked like Pam Anderson. I kid you not. We would go out and every single night at least one guy would come up to ME to tell ME how hot and gorgeous MY FRIEND was. Oh…and has anyone ever said she looks like PAM ANDERSON?! Ummm…go f-cking tell her yourself a-shole. Still, I felt pretty cute in my Doc Martens and six layers of Abercrombie, but I certainly didn’t have people telling me how gorgeous I was.
Today…I’m still not as skinny or blonde or rich or preppy as some of the moms at my little girls’ school. I am not the most successful of the people I know. I hardly ever make it out downtown let alone often enough to even know what bars/clubs exist there anymore.
I fake it until I make it. When there are things that I really want to be or accomplish I make-believe I’m there already. And soon enough…it starts to come true. That Bobby Brown tape may not have been what I was actually asking for, or what other kids were listening to, but I pretended it was better and people eventually believed me. I wasn’t what I considered the ideal in high school but I decided I was pretty great anyway. I may not have looked like Pam Anderson in college but I convinced myself I was hot sh-t anyway (despite my ridiculous grunge/prepster outfits). And I may not be a runner, per se, but damn it I’m going to participate in ten runs this year.
Which reminds me…about that New York Times Best Seller list…just sayin’.
Many times at wine night, when we’re talking about things we want to accomplish that seem incredibly daunting, someone usually says “fake it ‘til you make it.” Well I’m here to remind myself to do just that. I’m going to fake it ‘till I make it and assume that I am already all of the things I want to be. Obviously.
TODAY: What if I fake it ‘till I make it?
PS – This is my 80th post. I’m not sure I’ve ever done anything 80 days in a row. See…I’m pretending to be a blogger…and apparently it’s working??? Fake it ’til you make it!!!