Day 80: Gift

This has been a back-to-normal exercise week. I've run twice, and been to two yoga classes: I've set that amount of exercise as my new hoped-for plan. It feels both do-able and necessary.

Yesterday's yoga class was so good for my soul. I had a long day that included a dentist appointment, seeing the chiro for this shoulder injury, and cooking and caring for kids ... by 4 o'clock when my husband came home early to set me free, I probably would have chewed someone's head off if I couldn't have grabbed my yoga gear and run out the door. Class itself was led by one of my favourite teachers. He encourages a very inward-seeking class, and actively discourages everyone from being competitive or judgemental (with/of ourselves, I mean). By class's end, I realized that I am still very fit, that that week and a half of ill health did not set me back, as far as I can tell, and that, more importantly, I was lying in shavasana is an utterly relaxed and content state of mind and body.

Down in the shower, the thought came to me: somehow, within the triathlon project, I've lost track of the real reason that I continue to exercise. If general fitness is the goal, I'm already there. I was there before the project began. If looking good is the goal, I'm also very happy with how I look, and already was. And if the goal is mental fitness, something hasn't been clicking. Because if the goal is to complete something no matter what, I'm lost from the start. In fact, I spent some of the triathlon project feeling less fit than before, less healthy, less mentally content with myself and my accomplishments.  Less spiritually aware. Less connected to the divine.

The project is not, therefore, dead. The project needs to take a keen look at itself, and reassess. I go to yoga class not to make myself more fit, or to get a step closer to completing a triathlon; I go because it feeds me during and after. Same for running.

Should I harbour no goals? No. That's not what I'm getting at. I just need to know at my core that the goal is a tiny piece of a much larger, richer, deeper, more interesting story. If I get there, good. If not, good. Just being able to move my body, to breathe, and to try is a gift.

Day 75: Back

Ran this morning. Got up and ran. Husband finally home, and it was possible. I ran about 6k, a bit less than usual, but decided not to push too hard, as I haven't run for over a week and a half. And my knees hurt. Tomorrow: new shoes, and a 60-minute yoga class.

As I write this, the last of the runners pass my window--a 10k race I'd intended to run in.

Next year.

Day 73: Sigh

The project has stalled out. It's official.

Several factors have conspired against my regularly training plan, and I have now gone over a week without exercising; nor will I be running in this weekend's 10k event (never signed up for it either; perhaps my heart wasn't in it).

My husband has been working a great deal, even weekends. That means that my only exercise times are over the supper hour, or very early in the morning, or during writing time. I am also sick, and have only enough energy to pull myself through my day-to-day necessities: childcare, laundry, meals, cleanup, kids' activities. And I'm injured. I'm thankful that the treatment seems to be helping a lot already. My left shoulder has been stiff and painful almost since the project started, affecting my mobility, and my sleeping. I couldn't sleep without pain for about six weeks straight, and I think the sleep deprivation caught up in a whammy last week. Lowered immune system. Who knows. In any case, I haven't found time or energy to get out on my own.

It is affecting my mood, and I've definitely been grumpier than usual. I am a happier and more productive woman when I am exercising, and taking that time on my own. I hope that next week's schedule will prove slightly more flexible, that I will feel better, and take any opportunities that come.

Meantime, as the days get shorter and darker, I feel myself turning inward and slowing down. I have a lot of writing work ahead, good hard work. I hope to find my balance again soon between body and mind.

Day 64: Still Good

This week I've gone to two yoga classes, and got up to run this morning, too. I would never get up to run on these dark, wet, cool mornings if it were not for my friend coming to the door at 6am. Every time (she tells me), I say: I almost couldn't get out of bed. And every time, I do. Because I know how good I will feel afterward, and also, I want to talk to her, and that's the only regular time we've found in our busy lives to fit in a long conversation. Can't miss that.

Yoga pulls me in even when I'm not entirely in the mood because it is just such a calming place for me to go. I love the smell of the studio. I love being forced to focus and I love sweating, and moving. It would be impossible not to add that I also love the shape of my body, and how regular practice has changed and strengthened it, and improved my flexibility. Without question, this is a practice I intend to continue for my entire life, if possible.

On the downside, I continue to suffer from pain and stiffness in my neck and shoulder. I don't know why. It doesn't stop me from doing the things I want to do, but I have difficulty turning to glance over my left shoulder. Sometimes I fantasize about a masseuse digging under the shoulder blade and rooting out the tensed muscle. If that's what it is.

I continue to be tired, but it's a fast-paced life. I am trying to grab naps where possible, and make sensible choices about bedtime.

And I feel more fit. Without a doubt. Yesterday's yoga class was 90 minutes, and I pushed myself hard, and discovered that my heart rate and breathing would accelerate during difficult postures, and then fall to normal almost immediately afterward. The recovery period has been greatly shortened. I have more stamina. I am certain I could run longer distances, especially if I were willing to take brief breaks to walk (ie. no more than a minute). Ah, ego.

Day 62: Good

I had such a good run in the chilly rain on Saturday morning. It was not what I felt like doing, so my husband said, well, why don't you just skip it, then? And I said, if I skipped every time I didn't feel like it, I'd never go. Ever. (Not true of yoga class, however, which I actually look forward to attending, most of the time). Anyway. Put on my CBC Radio 3 downloaded podcast, to keep me up to date on the Canadian indie scene, and got a kick out of hearing a piece about my siblings' band, Kidstreet, at about one kilometre in. I ran a few hills, took a route that is approximately 8km. Nearing home, I realized it had been such a happy run. It felt easy. I wasn't pressed for time, or trying to beat a record, or go further than usual, or anything extra. I was just running and enjoying it. At the end of the run, my conclusion was that I am, in fact, in better shape than I was at the beginning of this project.

And that maybe it doesn't matter excessively to me. I just want to stay fit, and enjoy myself while I'm doing it.

Today, I was off to a 60 minute yoga class that felt easy-ish, though the instructor pushed us hard, which I appreciated. I am scheduling in two more yoga classes this week, and two more runs. It feels good to feel good.

Day 59: Small Irony

Remember those swim lessons I was hesitant about doing? Well, the rec centre called to say my class had been cancelled. I felt relieved. Writing work is too important right now, and I'm glad the fates stepped in and decided for me.

This week has been reasonably good for training. I ran Monday morning, as mentioned (about 7km), and Tuesday morning early, with a friend, about 8km. Wednesday, after a particularly hard day of writing and then racing with children to music lessons, I was thrilled to be in a kick-ass 90 minute yoga class, working out all of the day's tension. Cap off the evening with a drink with friends, and my soul was cleared for the day. But yesterday my husband had to work early and late, and there was no possibility of seriously exercising. The walk to and from school had to suffice. I felt pretty restless last night. But not restless enough to rise early this morning to do something about it. I am always so tired by Friday morning. Again, it does not look like I will get any exercise today, other than the dragging-the-kids-around type. We will be skating after school, but it's hardly exercise to push a stroller around with two kids hanging off of it.

Tomorrow, I will have to get up early in order to squeeze in a run. I hope that I have the fortitude to do so.

:::

One more thing ... I am beginning to believe that this is a dead writing project. It has to do with the interior and individual nature of the pursuit. The further I get in the project, the more I see all around me people who are making similar attempts, and who would not be the least bit interested in mine. I think there's a good reason there are so many books with tips on "how-to" [fill in the exercise accomplishment here], and so few memoir-style books on the subject. Because, really, who cares? Who cares to hear that I've run 8km or even 28? As narrative, it does not pull a reader onward. It's a bit like reading a grocery list.