Thursday, August 1, 2013

all too familiar; yet so reflective

I'm tired. I'm cranky. I'm sore. I'm exhausted.

{jeepers, you'd think I was PMS'ing or something}

Nope. I'm dead in the middle of my Ironman build. Yippie ki-yay! Why do we block these memories out when Race Registration Compulsion Disorder (RRCD) sets in? {Swim, Bike, Mom on the credit for that one} Why is that finish line so powerful? Powerful enough to make someone sign up for another?

It is about the journey, right?

Journey of an Ironman. Pony up the dough 12+ months in advance. Start training 6 months in advance. Freak out 4 months in advance because training hasn't commenced. Hire coach. Train. Feel like you'll never gain fitness again, and then fitness itself starts peeking through the curtains. Hello, thank goodness you are here. What's next?

Panic mode. Cramming for Ironman. How many of us will overtrain on our journey there?

Thank goodness the fitness is starting to show up to my workouts. It's not perfect, and I'm not close to race weight, but I'm on a path {albeit not straight} to getting to that finish line. With a smile on my face. I've hada good streak of training as of late and can only hope to ride this wave all the way to taper time.

However, it's not always sunshine and rainbows, even in San Diego. I heard an NPR segment recently about how social media and our "online personalities" are actually making everyone else depressed. All too common are those posts about the sunshine and rainbows, and smiling kids, and weddings, celebrations, sunsets. We wrap those perfect moments into a collection and leave out the rest.  Rain, tears, breakups, crying babies, work frustrations all get slid under the social media rug and then what? Our lives become these perfect little square photos of smiles online, but unravel behind the screen. I understand there is a limit and a balance as well. You're probably thinking of the person you blocked from your timeline who hasn't a happy thing to say. But see, we push them away. Into this fake friendship, instead of reaching out. Instilling a smile into their so unpleasant online world. Remember the FB "Poke" and the smiles those used to bring to your belly when the notification rang?

Poke. :) Am I really getting old enough to say, "Remember, in the olden days?"

Everyone has setbacks. It wouldn't make the good times great if it weren't for these "why me?" moments. Woe is me, my heel has been a literal pain in the foot since January. Woe is me, walking to pee in the morning is a serious struggle full of painful steps. Woe is me. Work has becoming increasingly stressful. This is not a pity part blog, Rachel!

space boots. recovery mode on.
It's either hurry up and get through these days, these workouts. Or Stop. And smell the roses along the way, enjoy the view, your ability, the shivers you get when thinking of that last mile before the finish. And that line. Drawn in the sand, that we must cross. To reach the end of the cycle. To maybe start again someday.

I said my first would be my last. And here I am, cycling back to the #freakingironman mode. And I feel it becoming a part of me. Not enough to outbreak in RRCD because that'll happen when the time is right. But enough to know that I still have that light inside and I won't let these woes blow it out. Maybe someday the {ironman} light will jump to the Sherpa and we'll experience what a household of #craziness is all about. {Yes, I also think it's crazy that my brain is starting to process the "pound/hashtag" as a part of my daily communication. We're all doomed.}

goldfish reflections. yum.
I've become a bit more reflective this time around. Which I suppose happens when you do something over again, but in a new way. Reflections get distorted and aren't perfect. But neither are we who are reflected. Those square photos are a snapshot of this ever crazy journey. And right now, I'm happy where that journey is headed.

reflections at the pool. in not so sunny SD

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