Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Lately, I have no drive, no desire. Actually, that's untrue. Seems I have much drive and desire for things like, say, the occasional (nightly) glass of red wine...or four, hanging out at my condo and cooking, spending countless hours at the barn, taking weekends to travel and visit friends and family I haven't seen in what seems like forever, trying to figure out some god-forsaken location to host a wedding, et cetera.
And now and again, I get the twinge to strap on my runners and move my legs over a handful of miles (or three).
But when it comes to getting in the pool or on my bike, I just can't seem to do it.
I've thought about both. Quite a bit. Once I was almost on my way out the door to Masters. But then I really thought about it. And then, suddenly, I was on the couch watching Dancing With the Stars.
Walking to work this morning, I had a dreaded thought: what if I'm just a normal person in triathlete's clothing?
After all, shouldn't I be itching to get back on my bike and back in the pool? Shouldn't I be checking out programs that are going to make me faster and stronger for next season? Shouldn't I be planning next season? (I got the email update last week from Midwest Sports Events with next season's events and dates, and what did I do? Hit "delete").
Because I'm not. At all. Doing any of it.
And lately, I've felt bad about this. At best it makes me feel like I'm an impostor Iron(wo)man...one who snuck something by everyone else on this whole journey -- like I didn't really earn it as much as others did. At worst, I feel like it wasn't even really me who completed that insane/amazing journey only two months back -- like it was someone else who looked a lot like me and had a life like mine and the same people in it, but wasn't actually me.
And on my morning walk to work today, I realized that it's not the activity that I've been having an adverse reaction to. Rather, it's the schedule. And, as such, I've come to loathe the dreaded schedule.
For the past year, every second of my day was scheduled. In fact, with two to three-hour workouts each night, dogs to entertain, a horse to check in on now and then, committee meetings to attend, and work to show up at, there wasn't even time left over for dentist appointments, grocery shopping, or accepting any kind of impromptu "let's meet for a drink after work" invitations from friends. Every night, looking at the next day's workout and trying to figure out how I would fit those hours in in addition to everything else that had to get done, was a lesson in stress management for me.
And that -- the schedule -- is what I don't miss. At all. Having to do something. Having to be somewhere. Having to cram it all in and figure out how I was going to exercise my dog and get a swim in all at the same time.
What I need to get my head around, though, is that it's not all-or-nothing. I can do a three-mile run, and call it a day. I can attend Master's once a week, and be okay with that. Or try.
But eventually, if I'm going to continue with triathlon -- which I would like to do -- I'm going to need to get back on a program. And sticking to the program or doing the work doesn't freak me out. Losing my freedom to a schedule once again does, though.
In the meantime, today, I took a baby step and started running again. (Amazing how quickly that endurance leaves the body!). More on that to come...
Posted by Erin 7:48 AM