Today was one of those days where we tried to do a normal family thing with Bear, and it was harder than it should have been and we muddled through and everything was fine. But then we got home and I have an emotional meltdown because of the hardness, and how I hate having to choose between isolating my Bear from all the things he should be doing at his age and the immense struggle it is to actually do those things.
So we got home and it was raining and I was so physically and emotionally tired from the simple act of trying to sit through a movie with my Bear that I wanted to throw my bike out the window and cry. Because if I'm exhausted by lunch and a movie with a 2 year old, where on earth will I find the stamina to race again?
My bike handling skills are pathetic, so even if I'd been thrilled about a bike ride in the midst of my pity party, it just isn't safe for me to ride in the rain.
And I didn't want to wake the Bear up from his nap with the treadmill. So I did something I still can't believe I did.
I got my ass off the couch. And I got out my Otterbox. And I went for a run in the 49 degree rain.
I stepped off the front porch and I started running. I didn't stop until I made it an entire mile. The last 50 yards were rough. But by then I was so close nothing could stop me. Not even the neurotic voices in my head. Especially not them.
I clocked my best mile ever by two whole seconds - 12:26.
I played my girl power playlist at a deafening volume and it was what I needed when I needed it. I choked back tears and I pretended I wasn't getting a stitch in my side and I just kept running.
I ran until I couldn't feel the rain or the cold. I ran until I didn't need to cry any more. And after a little walk break, I ran some more just to prove I could. Because you never know what you're going to get on race day. And a triathlete trains in any weather. And damnit, I have going to start behaving like a triathlete again.
Today it was harder than it had to be. But for me, today, I think that's what it had to be.
3 comments:
I can't imagine taking a two year old to a movie. I just can't. That you survived and still have hair on your head (you do have hair, right?) impresses the hell out of me. The rest is just frosting. :)
Welcome back my friend. You are a triathlete.
You are a great mom to Bear and you are a great wife, but most importantly you are a great woman.
HUGS!!
Sometimes that is the only way to deal with the stress, frustration and helplessness. Get it out so you can go back home and deal. Congratulations on getting back out there! It's a nice start to your comeback. :)
By the way, I cannot even IMAGINE taking Jonah to a movie. It's enough of an ordeal taking him to a restaurant and expecting him to last 15 minutes while we scarf down our food as fast as we can so we can get the heck out of there. I'm going to attempt to take him to the h.s. musical next weekend and I'm already getting anxiety attacks about it. Bless you for braving it!
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