This has been an INSANE weekend. I ran 13 miles at Day 01 of my stage race on Friday, and then volunteered at our local art festival Friday night. I did that so that I could see Indigo Girls for FREE Saturday night after running 16 miles at Day 02 of our Stage race. All leading up to running 14 miles today at Day 03.
So, you would think I would have been EXHAUSTED last night.
The concert was SO FUN. Nikki and I danced non-stop for 90 minutes. The Indigo Girls were the soundtrack from my high school years, but I kept up with them even beyond that. I knew most of the songs last night but they played several of my favorites. My favorites from a time in my life when I was struggling after my first marriage ended and I was trying to keep my head above water and finish school as a single Mom and the Indigo Girls were my anthem of every day. I saw them several times over the span of about 3 years, once with E when he was 4. Those songs were the nourishment for my soul which needed healing as I was rediscovering who I was in the wake of some crazy changes in my life.
And last night I got to hear several of those SAME SONGS in person, close enough that we could make out the flowers on Emily’s shirt and I could see the sweat dripping off Amy Ray’s forehead. I screamed the lyrics and danced my heart out and laughed and boogied with my daughter and felt SO ALIVE because I haven’t seen a live show in forever, much less music that carried so much emotional weight…I felt high on life in every sense of the word. It was a great night and Nikki had a blast and I’ll never forget it.
But then…of course…because this is ME we’re talking about…I woke up at 1:30am replaying moments from the night and suffering from embarrassment shame spiral.
Should I have hugged that friend? Did I make that awkward?
Should I have screamed when I saw those friends? Did they thing I was drunk?
Why did I talk to the guy with the stage race shirt?
Was I too excited?
How bad of a dancer am I?
Maybe I should have been more calm. I’m almost 40 for chrissakes.
I’m too old to have been acting like a fool like that.
I was so excited to be there yesterday that I embraced everyone I saw, just about. If they didn’t get hugs they got some sort of drunken (I was not drunk on anything but the excitement of my favorite music) and overly excited greeting where I was like a kid bouncing off the walls on Christmas Eve.
And at 2am I started worrying that maybe I was too old for that kind of crap. And even after several exhausting days I could NOT sleep for fear of embarrassment.
I had an amazing night with my daughter. I screamed myself hoarse. I danced so hard I can’t tell what is sore today from running or what is from dancing. I felt joy deep in my soul listening to some of my favorite songs and yet…YET…I found myself freaking out over whether I was having TOO much fun for a 40yo.
So…I’m dumping this here. I’m unloading all of that embarrassment and shame here so I can let go of it and maybe just carry the amazing joy I had yesterday, starting out running through the woods with my friends, and ending with one of the most perfect musical performances I’ve ever attended. THERE WERE FIREWORKS DURING CLOSER TO FINE, Y’ALL.
IT WAS AMAZEBALLS.