Hoopla Schmoopla

I had one main complaint about running the Spokane 1/2 marathon - not nearly enough "hoopla" for me. If I'm gonna run 13.4 miles for no real apparent reason, other than putting my body into complete and utter shock after being on bedrest for 5 months, then I want song and dance. I want cheerleaders all along the route. I want costumes. Bands. Dancers. Musicians. People in wigs. People doing jigs. People eating figs.

You get the point.

Hoopla is what I want. Lots and lots of hoopla.

Now what is striking me as sorta funny is that I have this big 190 mile relay race coming up next weekend (exactly one week from today), and from the sound if it - there is going to be lots and lots of hoopla. There are 36 legs for 12 runners to run. One of the legs is a wig contest, one of the legs is a costume contest, one of the legs is a night time leg with a bright lights contest. There are also team spirit awards, and best decorated van awards. Hoopla, I tell ya!

So what's the "funny part?", you ask. The funny part is that my leg got changed a couple of weeks ago to the costume contest leg, and now I'm feeling a little less hoopla might be just fine! Hoopla Schmoopla. I am so stressed out about it, and I don't know why. This is seriously right up my alley. At least it use to be right up my alley.

Something has changed as I have gotten older, and I'm not sure I like it. Years ago, I would have jumped up and down and begged to get the costume leg. I would have been ecstatic about it, so much so that I would have picked out the loudest, craziest, and wackiest costume ever!

So, what happened?

At what point in my life did I make this shift and will there be point in my life in which I make the switch back? I think it all has to do with the whole "comfortable in your own skin" phenomenon. I am totally comfortable in my own skin around my life long friends (meaning the ones that I had years ago who knew me when I would have begged for the costume leg), my family, or in a situation where I can be totally anonymous. The problem is that my every day life doesn't include any of those things. I have dear friends here in Spokane, but they don't really know that side of me. My family isn't close by, and they wouldn't be running the race with me anyway, and of course, I can't be totally anonymous.

So, what am I to do?

I'm thinking this will be a good therapeutic exercise for me. One that will force me to call upon my old self and bring her to the table (or to the race, as the case may be). One that will get me to ask - what would I have worn say 15 or 20 years ago?

Hoopla Schmoopla, my ass! I'm gonna get my groove back.....

Wish me luck.

any ideas?