I would never spill it.
It’s Saturday night as I write this, and I am one week away from Islandman Triathlon in Avalon. It’s my “hometown” race, and I really should be preparing to REPRESENT. And yet I am sitting on my couch, watching Tom Hanks and Denzel kill it in Philadelphia and drinking the bottle of red wine that someone gave my husband at work for being a helpful boss. (Yeah, yeah, it’s not my wine. He doesn’t drink wine, so you can just shut up.)
Did I train today? No. I cleaned my house in Avalon for six hours and left it for a wonderful family to use until Thursday. Did I train Friday? Uh, a little bit. I took a spin around the island on Bikey. How about Thursday? Nope. I worked for a few hours with my friend Joe making smoothies and juices at Shore Juice in Stone Harbor. Then I missed swim practice when I had to take Miss Kelly Belly to the ER after she broke her arm falling off her bike. Then I collapsed on the couch. Wednesday? I did a little walk/run on the beach. Tuesday? Well, that’s a lifetime ago. Who the hell knows.
I started the week with the best of intentions. Then Life showed up, and that son of a bitch left my cake out in the rain.
And so, the question is, what happens when Life wrecks your training?
Seriously? This is the question? Who asks such a stupid question? Come on, son. I have taught thousands of students at West Chester University. Believe me, they can come up with some doozies. But this one take the (soggy) cake.
The answer to the question is “Duh.” This stupid question begs another question. “Who cares?” Here at the The Mediocre Triathlete, we reflect on a lost week of training and say, “Well, that sucked. But at least we had that yummy dinner at Hibachi. And my house is really clean, so that’s good. Kelly’s bone isn’t totally broken, just really bent. And the bursitis in my left hip feels a little bit better. So start it all over again on Monday.” We also say things like, “Dear God, this wine is good. I should write a little note of thanks to whoever gave it to Scott. Oh, look. The Bourne Identity is on next. I am definitely sleeping in tomorrow.” (Monday morning Note To Self: No more Saturday night blogging.)
Here’s the deal. Until someone starts PAYING ME to win at these races, I will not sacrifice my peace of mind when Life shows up and steals a few workouts. I will totally get that Life isn’t just showing up on my doorstep, but every triathlete’s doorstep. It’s like when there is a nasty headwind on a bike course. It’s nasty for everyone, not just me. We all have Life bursting in and disrupting our plans. That’s when we step back and say, “No big whoop.” At least that’s what I say. Does it keep me off the podium? Oh, I don’t know. It might. Does it keep me sane? Without a doubt, YES.
Now quit bothering me with your stupid questions. I have a bottle of wine to finish and Jason Bourne is getting ready to kick some ass.
(Monday morning Note to Self: Holy moly, there was some foul language coming out of that wine bottle.)