It's happened, again. Each year, I finish Danskin weekend and swear that I am never, ever going to work on the event again. Then Marion calls me in February and asks if I'm in or not. And I say yes. Last year took a toll on me: I was pregnant, Marion was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. It was really bad.
So when Marion told me that she was stepping down as race director, I saw it as my opportunity to take a giant step back from Danskin. When the new director e-mailed to see if I wanted to be involved, I gave him a provisional yes. I agreed to help round up suppliers for things like scaffolding and fencing and porta-pots and t-shirts. And I told him I was only available for two of the three days of Danskin and gave him the choice of which two. He chose Friday and Sunday.
But now I'm slowly getting sucked back in, doing more work and worrying way more than I had planned. I've even had Danskin-induced insomnia the past few nights, starting at the ceiling making mental lists of things to do and check on.
It's a different kind of stress this year, though. In the past, Marion has caused stress by calling and e-mailing me, asking over and over again whether things have been done and confirmed and reconfirmed. This time my worry is that something isn't going to be done. The new race director is about as laid back a human as I've ever met. He just doesn't get fussed about much. And because he's not double and triple confiming things with me, I'm not sure they're getting done, and I'm worrying about it all.
I need to let go and remember that it's not my job to make sure everything is done. I'm just responsible for scaffold, fence, porta-pots and shirts. That's it.
But it will all be worth it in the end. I always cry on race day seeing all of the women out there in the lake. It will be even more special this year since Heidi is competing. My goal is to make it to the finish line and see her come across. I'd love to be the one to hand her her medal.
But next year, I swear, I'm not helping as much. Really.