Random thoughts after happy hour. . .

Time and time again people (I know. . .) ask why I am doing what I’m doing. (Really? Read entry number two.) Sometimes I also wonder why. When the alarm clock rings at 4 am. When I really want to watch the new episode of How I Met Your Mother (but I’m at the gym instead.). When I’m not kicking balls/going to girls’ night/calling you back because I have to train or sleep.

I’ve learned there are other sacrifices too. There are the “friends” who don’t get “it.” (I’m sorry I can’t go to you party that starts at 9 pm. I’m a weenie and need to wake up to train at 4 am. And I need a full 8 hours of sleep in order to do this.) There are the guys who are intimidated by “it.” (Sorry, I’m pretty hard core, if you can’t accept that, you’re not worth it. I don’t NEED you to be hard core. Just accept that I AM hard core and support it.)

Yes, when my pool closes for a “who knows how long” amount of time (less than a month before the IM), I’m going to stress out. Yes, when my knee hurts, I’m going to stress out. Yes, when it is still 95 degrees at the end of October, I am going to stress out. Let me stress out. Listen to me stress out.

Accept that I am crabby. Do you know what I am about to put my body and my mind through? No? Then shut the fuck up. Listen. I have an idea of what I’m going to go through, but in all reality, I have no idea. I’m nervous. I’m scared. I’m terrified in fact. Unless you’ve been there, done that, shut up. Even if you have been there/done that, I don’t want to hear your bullshit. Give me information I can use.

Not one of you will know how I feel, what I’ve overcome to be here today. What I’ve gone through to get to the finish line in three weeks. That’s ok. I don’t expect you to. I ask that you empathize with what I go through. The sacrifices I’ve made. I’m sorry I can’t keep in touch as much or talk on the phone as long. I have to sleep. I have to train. If you can’t understand that, I’m sorry.

My eyes swell up with tears each and every time I visualize the finish line experience (and I’m a cold heartless bitch, this is a huge deal!). It starts as I make the final turn into the home stretch. I pause. I draw a deep breath. My eyes swell. I move toward the finish line. I find my family and friends (ideally, they’ll be on the same side . . . toward the bottom of the grandstands .hint. hint. hint.) I high five folks as I pass by. I cross the finish line (with a pose that is yet to be determined, but super awesome and by far my best finish line photo yet/ever.).

This is definitely one of the most important moments of my life. It’s interesting to visualize that moment and to think about who will be there. (Also, who won’t be there.)Who actually can’t be there vs. which folks just don’t ‘get it.’

Adventures in Swimming: Part I

I may have mentioned a time or two that I am not what you can consider a strong swimmer. I’m not so comfortable in the pool for many reasons: swimming is hard; I don’t like wearing a swim suit; people are idiots.

Swimming is getting a little easier for me. Yay. I finally do not feel like I’m flailing about all the time in the pool. Every once in a while I find myself in a rhythm and I feel like I can go forever. . .or at least 2.4 miles. . .in a 3.5’ deep pool with a line on the bottom and no people near me.

I tend to work out first thing in the morning. I usually don’t have an excuse to miss an early workout. By the time I’m finished with work, I do not want to head to the gym. There is a different type of person who works out after work than before. It may just be the particular gym I go to, but it seems to me the folks who go to the gym after work are the ones looking for a date more than a good workout (sweeping generalization, I know.). There are people socializing and talking to each other while they work out. The folks who are around at 5, 5:30 in the morning are there to get down to business. They don’t really make eye contact with anyone; you don’t see women backcombing their hair and touching up their lipstick before hopping on the treadmill at 5:30 am.

I like to hit the pool by 5:30. Any time before 6 is great as I am usually the first one in the pool. By 6:15 people start to shuffle in to swim or to hop in the hot tub. There are these two older middle-aged men who get in the hot tub for at least 30 if not 45 minutes. It was weird to me. My very first swim workout, one guy left the hot tub and headed to the locker room. His friend hopped into the lane next to me. He waited for me to stop (which, to be honest was not long, again, not a strong swimmer). He then decided he needed to talk to me. Seriously? I’m in the pool. Do not talk to me. I am gasping for breath. “You just started working out here?” (Gag.) “Uhm, no. I’ve just started swimming here though.” “Oh, I like to swim. (Gag.) What’s your name?” (Gag.) “Jeanne.” “My name’s yadda yadda. Nice to meet you.” (Gag.) I clearly need to swim. “Well, I’m going to continue my workout now.” I continued with my workout. This guy barely doggy paddles half way down, turns around and goes back. “Well, I’ll see you next time. If you have any questions about the gym, just ask me.” Seriously? I felt like this guy and his friend watched me from then on. They still creep me out.

That same day another guy gets in the pool. I’m still gasping for breath at the end of each 25 m swim. “You sure are a good swimmer, can you coach me?” (Gag) “I am not a good swimmer. I took lessons from Tempe Parks and Rec. You should check them out.” He continues to tell me how he has to swim because he’s a runner and he has an injury and blah blah blah. Who are these people!? It’s not like the lap pool is the place to strike up a conversation. This isn’t some pool party where we all have cocktails and we’re lounging around the pool. I am trying to workout! The pool is not like the treadmill or the bikes at the gym where you can easily have a conversation and still do something. In the pool, you’re either swimming or you’re not. I try to be friendly. I don’t want to be perceived as the bitchy girl at the pool. But geeze! I go to the gym at the crack of dawn and I really don’t want to talk to anyone (Unless I’m asking, “would you like to share my lane.” More on that later.).

I am now a better swimmer. Thank goodness! I no longer have to stop every 25 m (unless I’m doing sprints) to catch my breath. Those of us who are regular swimmers in the pool don’t need to talk to each other and we rarely do. It is fabulous.