Honoring Our Decisions in Life

It was June 2019 when I decided to sign up for an old college friend’s endurance riding bootcamp, which was being offered in April 2020. At that point, I hadn’t ridden over 7 miles, let alone even consider participating in an endurance race, but I had a dream seeded in my heart that I could be an endurance rider. So naturally, after signing up for the bootcamp, I decided to to also sign up for the race that this whole blog is all about- Race The Wild Coast. I took the plunge and threw in my deposit fee for Race The Wild Coast 2020, sending in my entry in late 2019.

When COVID started becoming a driving influence in our collective global lives, I still had to push ahead with training, with the assumption that both the bootcamp and RTWC were both still going to take place. Eventually, the bootcamp was decided to be postponed until the following year (2021), but the race itself was still in a place of uncertainty.

Because I was still assuming that the race would take place, either as planned or postponed, I inquired about moving ahead with the bootcamp, but on my own instead of as part of a group as originally planned. The response from my friend was a huge “Absolutely!”

So I ended up travelling to California for a week in April despite the current conditions of the world in order to benefit from the incredible knowledge that my friend had to offer.

What was originally supposed to be a week spent in and out of the saddle with two other riders preparing for their own adventure endurance race ended up just being me. What I took away from that week deserves its own post, however, the effects from that week are STILL settling within my soul, nearly one year later, and so I have still not written about it (and in fact may never write about it).

Eventually, the coordinators of RTWC decided to postpone the October 2020 race until June 2021, so I continued training with the help of some local endurance riding friends and finally had an opportunity to ride in my first 50 mile endurance race last fall.

Last week, I received an email stating that the 2020 race has officially been cancelled, but we were all invited to roll our entries into the 2021 race, to be held in the race’s normal timeframe in October. Because 2020 affected me the way it affected nearly everyone else on the planet (in short- I dealt with depression, fear, uncertainty, and had nearly imperceptible levels of personal or professional creative output), I have over the last several months experienced significant changes with how I viewed my decision to participate in this adventure race (ranging from “WTF am I doing”, to “I’m going to kick ass in that race”).

I originally signed up for this race because I felt I had something to prove- that I AM capable to doing what it takes to compete in an event of this caliber. Throughout my life, I’ve dealt with feelings of chronic emotional and spiritual brokenness that have led me to become intimately familiar with feelings of incompetence and worthlessness. I sought this experience as a way to prove to myself that I am competent and capable and worthy. The interesting thing is, based on conversations I’ve had with other competitors in Race the Wild Coast and other adventure races, the need to PROVE SOMETHING is a common motivator for people to sign on to these races. So, I found myself in good company.

When the 2020 race was officially cancelled, I inquired about withdrawing my entry. The toll of 2020 and early 2021 was heavy, as it was for many, and I found myself staring down the most enormous pile of debt I’d ever incurred (I’d paid the full race entry fee on credit card, bought an unforeseeably expensive house, had some expensive “life happens” moments, and so on and so forth). Adding to that pile, I’d also made the decision to purchase my flight because I had, most erroneously, assumed that we would be able to compete in the race in June, and the cost to change my flight put me into a despairing mood. Hindsight, as they say….

After a week of deliberating, a decision was made by the race coordinators to honor withdrawals, but not at full entry fee- all could be refunded except the deposit. I found this decision to be completely fair and honorable, and with the deposit being a significant portion of the overall cost, I choose not to withdraw my entry. I bow my head to the knowledge that I have deliberately chosen each and every step that has brought me here. The only step that I look at a bit wryly is the one to purchase my flight without having the weight of a final “Yes the race will officially take place in June” behind my purchase. I find myself now not in a feeling of despair, or upset, or fear. I find myself feeling some relief- the decision is out of my hands, and I must do as we all do, which is to move ahead with our lives making good on the decisions and actions that we make. So, I look forward to hopefully, finally, be racing along South Africa’s wild coast on horseback this October.