Do you like how I make up my own words? Just play along with me and go with the premise that "whatevered" is an actual word found in dictionaries.
Yesterday the dogs and I headed out for our daily walk. Like most days, I pretty much looked a fright: yoga paints, sweatshirt, hair pulled back to expose the gray undercurrents that need some attention. Yes, I pretty much look like a vagabond most days when I walk and usually I don't give it another thought. Yesterday, I realized what how I looked, shrugged my shoulders and laced up the sneaks. (One of the most fabulous things about dogs is that they do not care what you look like. At all.Their love and loyalty is not based on visual cues, thankfully. )
So we headed out and had to stop at the park to make a deposit on Shelby's behalf. At the playground, some preschoolers wanted to pet Shelby and so while the delightfully precocious girl was telling me that Shelby "wasn't large, wasn't small, she's medium" and asking if she was a "helper dog," I made small talk with a very put-together mom. Matching clothes, sassy vest, hair and make-up done but not overdone. I thought to myself that it figures today of all days, looking like I did, I'd have the opportunity to have face-to-face interaction with someone.
Yesterday, I felt outclassed.
.
Today while walking the dogs (notice the theme here), we reached an intersection at the same time as an older lady. She was wearing a visor and running shorts, and I'd guess she was in her 70s. After she admired the dogs and received a fierce growl from Cooper, we all started up the hill - she on one side of the road, us on the other. And she started to jog. We kept a pretty even pace - her running and me walking with two rambunctious pups in tow - but then she took the lead.
Today I was outpaced.
Tonight, I'm going to a knife class with a friend. We're going to hone our knife skills. Well, she'll be honing her skills; I'll be trying to avoid injury.
Tonight, I'm sure I will be out-skilled.
While I hate to be out-whatevered due to my pride, competitiveness, a drive to over-achieve, those opportunities give me time to realize and hopefully improve things I don't really like about myself.
In the park, I jumped to all sorts of conclusions about the perfect life that mother must have had, but I don't have a clue. Maybe she was dressed and on her way home from a doctor's appointment or a job interview because her husband's unemployed; maybe she's been wearing sweats for a month and took the time to dress nicely; maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe I don't know anything about her (except her children are adorable) and I should stop making quick judgments based on appearances.
Today, I felt wildly out of shape when my brisk walk didn't keep pace with the slow jog of a woman who's a generation ahead of me. For a while, I felt frustrated, like I lost a contest that only existed in my mind. Pushing aside feelings of inadequacy and making excuses for my slower pace, I thought, "I should only hope I'm that active at her age." (Don't get me wrong, I have never been a runner and seriously doubt it will seem like a fabulous idea 30 years from now.)
Tonight, well, I'm not sure what I'm going to experience, but I can guarantee you that I will be low on the skill totem pole. So I'm going to try to take my mind off competitive mode and just enjoy the time with my friend and the experience of learning from the experts. Oh, and avoid injury. That is my first and foremost goal. And if I'm successful, I will be grateful for that, too.
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