Guest Post:Voluntary Fear by RJ Lott

VOLUNTARY FEAR

“Why, why, why?”

It wasn’t a neighborhood four year-old, it’s your best friend or a coworker or maybe your parents. I was spreading the news of my intent to run my first marathon. “But you’ve never run that far before.” they’d say.  It was the summer of 2005 and I was preparing for the Portland Marathon. I weighed well north of 200 lbs. and  I had no idea what I was doing, but my credit card statement said that I was a willing participant. What can possibly go wrong over 26.2 miles? October 9, 2005, is a day that I will never forget. My efforts garnished a 3:49:40 finish. I was asked if I had won the race, or if I had won any money. Unfortunately, I had neither, but dammit, I was a marathoner! Nobody, at any time, now or in the future, will be able to take that away from me.

Fast forward over 16 additional marathons, one ultra, and a handful of multisport races with a bazillion other races sprinkled in…

“Why, why, why?”

This time around, it’s not about the running, it’s the writing. I want to contribute to a blog, a blog that whose readers will be 99% women. “But you’ve never had any writings published before.” So what? So what if I’m out of my element, AGAIN? So what if I feel like Kody Brown on “Sister Wives?” I won’t get any fame and I won’t become flush with riches. Maybe, just maybe, I’m addicted to voluntary fear?

What’s voluntary fear, you say? It’s a new term that I just made up, made up out of thin air. Fabricated. A term produced, birthed, calved…  similar to fart smucker, but much more classy. Something that my Mom can support.  Voluntary fear is when you put yourself in an uncomfortable situation in which you’re the guppy. Heck, I’m the new kid on the school bus. Is there a seat open for me?

My adventures in blog writing are just about to begin.  This is my initial offering. People always say that you’ll remember your first time. I think they mean something else, probably something that my Mom wouldn’t get behind. This is something that I want to do. Nobody is forcing me, and nobody certainly asked. I want this, I want this badly.

I want my readers to give voluntary fear a whirl. For us guys, it might be hitting the dance floor, getting a pedicure or perhaps asking out that blonde hottie that you’ve had your eye on. For the ladies, try joining the weightlifting class at your gym, or try your first 5K or change your car’s oil. It doesn’t have to be on the grand scale. Have voluntary fear, it builds character.

 I don’t consider these miscellaneous ramblings to be equivalent to walking on the moon.  I consider this to be my trek under the St. Louis Gateway Arch as I travel to new beginnings. Perhaps I’ll become a real-life blogger? I am strong and I am willing. And this is something that nobody, at any time, now or in the future, will ever be able to take away from me.

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