Three posts in one!

I've heard from a couple people, wondering how things are going with my training and why there hasn't been a new post up since last Thursday. And I'll tell you why, and I'll tell you about all the posts I wrote in my *head* this week, but I also will tell you that I'm so glad to hear that people are reading! Thanks for sticking with me and checking in every once and a while. Now, about those other posts.

Last Sunday, I almost wrote a post about perseverance - about how my first brick was absolutely awful, and my follow-on Sunday run was hideously windy and cold and left my arms chilled to the touch for 45 minutes, and serious discouragement was setting in, and then I reluctantly got in the pool Sunday afternoon and had my best swim yet. As I wrapped up my swim, I thought about writing that even if you can't have what you really want, sometimes you get that thing that you really need.

Then on Monday, I almost wrote about this team of mine, and how much fun it is that we're starting to come together and gel a little bit. And about how since we all vary in our swimming and biking and running, the people I run with are not necessarily the people I bike or swim with. So every group workout comes with a slightly different companionship component, and that kaleidoscope of workout partners makes training so much better.

But I didn't end up writing either one (obviously...) and here's why. Last week we started doing two workouts every day, instead of the single workout I had adjusted to way back in January. And this change resulted in my feeling mentally and emotionally pummeled by a two-by-four. It wasn't the extra workouts that were so bad - they all felt fine, once I got to them. It was the constant and harried THINKING about workouts that drove me practically to the edge. I woke up in the mornings thinking about when I would squeeze in a run, or a weightlifting session at the gym. I sat at my desk fretting over how I would get a 40-minute bike in that afternoon and still manage to do more than cram something into my mouth for dinner that evening. And always, in the back of my head, a little voice whispered about all those other, non-exercise tasks that I was also ignoring: mopping the kitchen floor, writing thank-you notes to all of you generous donors, talking to Pat (especially about things other than when to start our next workout). My anxiety peaked on Monday, but I was on a hair-trigger for the rest of the week. Little, normally manageable bumps seemed to hit me like great, insurmountable obstacles.

So, you say, obviously I'm a little bit past that, since I'm, you know, cracking jokes about it and, more importantly, posting again. What happened? The usual. Five two-workout days in a row, and I found a new rhythm. Or at least started to find it. Or maybe just realized that there might be the possibility of a rhythm, one that will still allow me to take out the trash and also talk to people occasionally. Add to that some commiseration with friends, a lot of support and patience from Pat, and one conversation with a good friend whose sick-toddler-non-sleeping-baby-traveling-husband triple-whammy of a week helped me regain my perspective. (I think my exact words in response to her "So, how was your week?" were "Well, I thought it was completely crazy, but now I'm reconsidering.)

To end on a high note, today's brick included a really nice ride through the farmlands of Maryland (I guess that the fast group of riders also got to spot the coastline before they turned back), and while the run portion was still brutal and gave me a massive, unrelenting side stitch, it wasn't quite as bad as last week's. I'll take what I can get.