But I don't know where to start....
Yes I've got to begin again....
and it's hard. It's harrrrrrrrrrrdddddddddddd.
I'll give you a dollar if you know who sings that tune. Hint. The song is old. And he sang it when he was young.
I actually do know where to start, of course. I just have mixed feelings about doing so. These last few weeks have been a brief visit to the world that once was--the world before training. Sure, I've been competing in road races since I was a young tot in my early twenties, but I didn't start training until 2005 after my youngest was born, and I really didn't start seriously, seriously training until I signed up for a 1/2 Ironman in the winter of 2006.
Before training I used to read a lot.
Okay, I still read a lot.
But I used to not feel guilty about reading a lot. It was what I did. For awhile I was even a reviewer for The Horn Book Guide, (which I know means nothing to any of you reading this, but if this were a lit. blog, it would) and so it was actually my job to read. Well, I guess technically it's still my job to read since I'm a librarian. But I digress...
These last three weeks I began to revert to my old reading ways. And it's been really nice. And it's about to end, because training is about to take the front seat again in terms of priority. I only have so many hours a day which I am able to devote to me, me, me and my triathlon obsession. Kids, the hub, work, house. These things take the majority of my time--and then training fills in every remaining gap, nook, hole--and even encroaches, of course, on the kids, the hub, work, house...
Once I take the plunge into the training abyss it will be a long while before I can come up for air again.
This week I ran every day except for Thanksgiving. I would have also run on Thanksgiving except I was blessed with a stomach bug that pretty much took me out of all running/eating activities for the day. Running every day isn't training, of course. It's indulging in my love for running--especially my love of running at any easy pace for not too long. Tomorrow I will get up early, early, early and hit the pool. And that begins the training.
One good thing about emerging from the training fog for the last three weeks is that I've developed more clarity on what I want to do--you know--like in life. This is somewhat of relief to me since for awhile there I completely lost my direction. I read about a billion books on aging and mid-life crisis, and though I doubt reading any of them helped more than a smidgen, the collective result is that I am ready to press on, where no me has gone before! Well, sort of anyway. I have a vision now. It will take awhile to implement the vision, but the important thing is I have one.
It's November, and it's cold, and it's raining, which makes me think of that song by Guns n' Roses. Axl has made a comeback, even if he's receiving some bad press about his less than intelligent album title. And now it's time for my comeback. (I know comeback is a bit hyperbolic a term given I've only been on break for three weeks. Humor me.)
Humor me -- because I am now starting my journey toward IRONMAN.
Bring it on.