I Wake Up in the Morning

I’m back! I went to the doctor last Tuesday and I heard the sweetest words ever- “You can start training again.” I was excited. Free to hit the cardio, ride the bike, run a mile. The possibilities seem endless. I know it was only two weeks and I did manage to get in some good swims but I had missed my cardio. The release, the endorphins, the rush. My bike had been sitting in the spare bedroom collecting dust. My running shoes had given up hope.

Since my release, I have enjoyed the stairmaster; I logged several miles in my running shoes and on Saturday I rode my first practice tour ride of the season- all 36 glorious miles. I should be happy. I should be glowing. My knee feels good. It gets sore and I worry about overdoing it but the pain I was experiencing before the surgery is gone. I’m ready to go.

I woke up this morning (I didn’t feel like P.Diddy) and I just wanted to go back to bed. I didn’t want to go to the gym. I didn’t want to design a new workout for my weights. I wanted to crawl back under the covers and forget about it all. I wanted to dream that there was no half marathon waiting for me in October, no Iron Man bike ride in November and even no Tour to Tanglewood in September.

What I really wanted this morning was to wake up, go to the gym, complete one of my insane workouts and enjoy every minute of it. I didn’t want to have to think about saving my legs for a bike ride or a run. I didn’t want to have to map out my week based on getting in certain activities. I didn’t want to train for anything or anyone but me.

I have a one-track mind. I decide I want to do something and I do it. I wanted to go to college and I went. I focused on it and everything else was secondary. I wanted to lose weight and I spent several years living a focused existence on diet and exercise. I wanted to do the White Lake Sprint triathlon and I focused on changing my workouts. I swam more than ever. I was focused.

But I’m tired. I know that Kathy doesn’t expect me to complete the bike portion of Iron Man in a specified time. I know that my fellow runners will just be happy for me to complete the half marathon. And I know that the Tour to Tanglewood is about raising money for a good cause and enjoying the ride. But lately, there is no joy. There is only pressure. Somewhere along the line it’s all become too much about time instead of finishing. As I was riding the bike on Saturday, I had to remind myself that I just had knee surgery but I kept beating myself up about my pace. I needed to be quicker, faster. It wasn’t fun.

I am in good shape but lately I have doubted that. I keep thinking that I need to do more, be more. I don’t like it. I miss the old me. The gym rat. I was training for life not for an event. There was no ribbon tied to it, no cheering section on the sidelines and more importantly, there was joy. I would push myself and my body beyond exhaustion. I didn’t have to worry about how many miles I got in or what my time was. I judge my success by doing more push-ups or lunges then I had before.

I’m not sure what all this means. I just know that I need to find that gym rat again. She did wake up in the morning feeling like P.Diddy.