So the other day I watched a news video where this old biddy and her daughter were traipsing about the English countryside with what looked like butterfly nets, but really, they were plastic bags attached to something similar…and they were catching air.
Yes, you read me right.
They were “trapping” air in these open plastic bags and then “emptying” the air, manually, into little glass jars before clamping the jar shut.
Apparently this enterprising duo sell the fresh jar of seaside air, which, according to them, may come with bits of grass caught in the wind or even a hint of ocean breeze (!) for an astounding 80 Euro to some hapless fuckwits in China.
I thought, come on, this has got to be some kind of joke, right?
Apparently not!
Why the heck didn’t I think of this sort of thing myself?
You know what its like when you hear someone made an app, or someone created some cool new invention thats so fucking simple but is so breathtakingly useful, and that person sells it for a dollar a piece and is now a frikken gazzillionaire. You are like, dammit, why didn’t I think of THAT first!
Heck, I have a hard enough of time making it through my day trying to be real without tripping myself up and defrauding someone for being gullible.
You know what I mean?
You wake up each day, you look yourself in the mirror and you go, “You are good enough. You can do this. You are successful, you are hard working, you are fucking awesome!”
And you put on your best effort of a happy face and you head on out there into the world, but all the time you are out there you are in a daze and some of the time your mind trails back to the whole possibility of others finding out you are a fraud. You do your best to be the best you but then even you wonder if you are real or if you saying you can do this, or assuring that you understand that, whether you really are capable of these things you think you are or whether you are just a fraud that is going to get found out.
As with many things I think about, many things that plague me, I don’t think you’d get what I am going on about here unless you too have been there.
I walk through the green channel at customs in an airport and despite having nothing illegal on me I am incapable of making eye contact with the officers, I get anxious when I pass a sniffer dog and I practically am dying a little on the inside because I am thinking, “Please, please don’t stop me and ask me to open my bags!”
Nothing wrong in my bags, but I feel like a huge display of honesty, its an effort to feel this way, and I am scared I will be found out to be a fraud! Completely insane, I know.
I look at other websites where people sell jewellery similar to what I sell and I am always amazed at the pricing, like “Wow, seriously? Who the fuck will pay that???” I know what its worth, I know what I would pay for it because its a fair price, but how in the hell do you go about doing this whole “sell sand to the Saudi’s and ice to the Eskimos” marketing thing if you aren’t, in some way, prepared to part a fool from his money.
Fairness and doing the right thing, its just not part of the process that makes you rich.
Just take a quick nip into J Crew. Prime example of how the world of consumerism works.
I have, in the past, bought and sold items that are part of the J Crew catalog, unknowingly, but in this day and age of people getting everything made in China, its not impossible to imagine that somehow I came into possession of some of their stock items.
You know how much a pair of earrings would cost wholesale and how much they sell it for themselves?
We aren’t talking a mark up of double or triple or quadruple…we are talking about a mark up that is 100-400 times the price of wholesale item.
And these same people who are willing to pay that price will be the fuckers who bargain when buying a genuine silver item with natural stones or pearls from a craftsman who slaved over that item with their own bare hands.
This is how messed up the world is.
Consumers don’t know what they are getting.
Branding is everything.
Oh, wait, this is a Tiffany ring, its totally worth it.
But wait, how about I make you the same ring, with a diamond sourced wholesale and still ethically so, and how about I even put it in this blue box for you.
Nope, they won’t pay you the same amount of money for that.
Why?
Because then they can’t tell their friends, but somehow, deep down in their heart they feel like they are being a fraud for not having shelled out the money for the “real” thing.
You know how many women are out there online peddling health and happiness?
There are a few that make a living off “healthy living” advise when they themselves are fat as fuck and look like they are one croissant away from an early grave! But they continue to get new people subscribing to their blogs and new converts who only see their profile photo from a decade ago beaming back at them.
Why?
Coz they are good at faking knowing their shit.
They are drinking their own Koolaid.
They genuinely believe that they are healthy, thin, fit, whatever…and that its this sheer insane level of confidence that works like the emperors new clothes, duping in all new members into believing the hype.
Would you get nutritional advise from someone who looked overweight as hell, was spotted sneaking a bucket of chicken at the KFC or who thinks a walk to the 7/11 is a workout?
Would you hire an unfit person to be your personal trainer and motivator?
Would you ask a blind man to help you cross the street?
You know?
Here some of us wake up each day trying to be real, trying to be our most honest and authentic selves, and I don’t get how others don’t struggle with this issue of impostor syndrome.
How the hell do they sleep at night?
Apparently, they sleep pretty frikken well!
I made it to training this morning, boxing. I always rock up to Saturday thinking, finally, the weekend, you know, when you don’t work, its not like you get to rejoice in it, but with kids and school runs, there does get to be a bit of opportunity to rejoice, so I allow myself that one bit of a deep sigh. But its insanely hard. Boxing training is always the final straw to break my camels back! I basically am broken by Saturday and I need all of Sunday to recover before I go to training on Monday again.
I have this dodgy knee and I have had it since a bicycle accident when I was 19, something about torn or non existent ligaments, but its been ok for a long time…and then I fell awkward while snowboarding last week.
I have to say I had a phenomenal snowboarding season, and although my knee isn’t fucked, its kinda inflamed and there is fluid and scar tissue build up.
So while my trainer says, “Maybe you should see a physio…”
I know my brain is going, “Dude, this is an old war wound, it will get better, all I need is time”
But time is something I don’t have. I have another 6 weeks of training before I am done with this cycle, right? And then what?
What shall I get myself into next?
In my constant and unyielding search for the next thing to keep me occupied, I signed up for a triathlon. Not an olympic one, just a dash. Its 400m swimming in a pool, 20km on a flat surface for some cycling, and then a 5km run, also on a flat surface. Totally manageable despite me not having a bike and not being the best swimmer in the world.
I won’t buy a bike, I have decided that is the plan. I will train at the gym, on a stationary bike or a spin bike, and then rent a bike in Phuket, which is where the event will be held.
Its for 20K, not a lot, I am sure I can rent one without any hassle, these days you can rent bikes everywhere!
I know I was supposed to walk The Camino de Santiago in October, and of course, my husband reminded me of this when I came up with my plan to train for a triathlon in November, like “so how the heck will you cycle on the Camino?” And I guess there is a point where I have to get real about all the things I want to do and all that I am capable of.
Yes, I would love to walk the entire Camino but the truth is I have 3 kids, two of them are under 5. I can’t really, realistically, expect someone to watch my kids for 40 days, despite my husband saying it will be alright. He works long hours and although he has some time off during that period, it is still a lot to expect of him and of my helper.
So I am thinking, maybe to the last 150km of the Camino, what it takes to get the certificate, and then revisit the whole Camino at a later date, when my kids are older and when maybe, just a thought, when my kids can join me on the journey for the entire 800km.
If I keep at my current level of commitment and enthusiasm for fitness, I see no reason why I can’t walk the entire Camino when I am 50. There is this insane thing of “I want to finish this, do that, be this, be that” all before I turn 40. And now, I dunno, its not like I am slacking, but I am thinking, what have I got to prove? Who do I have to prove it to? How can I be my real self and still feel content with my accomplishments?
So its settled.
I will do the triathlon in November, its on the 6th in Phuket. I will fly staff travel to save money, I will train outdoors and in the gym, I will rent a bike in Phuket well ahead of schedule.
I will walk the Camino in October, I will set aside 15-20 days for the trip, and I will put in 150-250km worth of effort, basically plan for what I can manage in the time I set aside for it.
Its totally doable. And all of that will happen before I turn 40 this year.
So its not a bad accomplishment.
My one goal, and this was back when I was 30, was to get to 40 and be in the best shape of my life.
My goal was always to be the fittest I have ever been, before I turn 40. I think I am well on that road right now. A few minor tweaks and I am there.
No defrauding, no pretending to be someone I am not, no anxiety.
The search for my authentic self is a daily struggle, but you have to understand, its important to challenge my ideas of self, to constantly boldly go where my consciousness has never ventured before. To facilitate, to motivate, to evolve.
I have to do this or else I will find days bleeding into weeks, weeks bleeding into months and then months into years…with little to show my progress other than my children needing me less and my hair being more gray.
🙂
Me, Myself & I 