I always want the BEST.  Most of my Google searches start with “the best ______” – recipes, ways to garden, restaurants…you name it.  I want the best.  Why would I want anything less?

I’ve always had high expectations.

When I was five, I was in my first children’s Christmas musical.  I listened to the tape over and over again so I’d learn all the words, just like I’d been instructed.  But my imagination got going while listening to those songs.  A full Broadway show played in my head each time I practiced.  Dance numbers were beautifully choreographed, the scenery and costumes were extraordinary.  When we finally started rehearsals on stage, I was deeply disappointed.  We were standing in LINES?! Just a few hand movements?  We’d wear matching t-shirts? *sigh*

In fourth grade the school year was coming to a close.  I decided I’d bring my new camera to school during the last week so I could take some pictures of my classmates.  It had been one of my favorite school years and I wanted to remember my class.  I had a plan.  I’d have everyone on the playground.  I imagined different spots everyone would stand or hang or sit in front.  It was going to be epic.  The day came, I asked everyone to head to the playground for a picture, maybe about half of them went and it was nothing like my epic photo in my head.  I wish I still had that picture to post.  It was really terrible.  Perhaps that was a sign posing people for photoshoots is not one of my strengths.

Those are just two small examples, but I could list countless times I set myself up for disappointment throughout my life:  photo sessions, what staying at home would be like, performances I’d attend, how my children should behave, what marriage would look like…..  I’m a planner and a dreamer, so I can really build something up until it’s pretty impossible to make a reality.

That’s how it went with my race last week.

I’d really built it up.  BIG.  I expected a huge life changing event.  Music blasting all night,  everyone dancing it up, feeling so proud of myself for finishing a 5k.  But it was nothing like that at all.

Ok, ok, it was on a small scale.  The music and party atmosphere of it all was fun.  It definitely kept me from getting bored.  And because we were in the dark winding all around the fairgrounds in circles, I had no idea how long I’d run or how much further I had to go.  And I did it.  At a super slow pace and quite a bit of walking because it was SO crowded.

The strangest thing was I wasn’t proud of myself for doing it.  I thought I’d feel some sense of accomplishment.  But I didn’t. My friends asked if I’d do another race and I said no.  I have absolutely no desire to do a race again.

Maybe it was because I didn’t run without stopping which was my expectation when I signed up.  Maybe because it was the same distance as walking around the lake by my house which I’ve done in the past.

I can’t put my finger on it.  But maybe I just had too many expectations.

And maybe that’s why I have a hard time finding joy and excitement in my life sometimes.  I over think and build things up too much which lead to disappointment. I expect too much from others, so they end up “letting me down”.

So what’s a girl to do? How am I supposed to balance my love of planning and dreaming alongside healthy and realistic expectations?  I certainly don’t have it all figured out, but it’s where I’m at right now.  No “answer” or way to turn it around right now, just thinking it over and thinking out loud.

Anyone else set expectations too high?