Me and El Nino Down by the Schoolyard

It's been warm here.

Today, the temperature FINALLY dipped down to about 27, although it was not really snowing--not enough for my liking--but at least some flurries are coming down. When I walked out of school today, I needed my scarf and heavy red winter coat and white gloves. The air hit my face and felt crisp when I took a breath. And I felt better, knowing this.

They say it's "El Nino." That's what's made it so unseasonably warm.

A few days ago, when I went on an 8 mile run, I stepped outside to notice that there were little flowers blooming in my garden. Little snow lilies--they usually don't pop out until early March.

They're confused.

I'm sorta feelin' em.

This whole weather thing has really made me feel "off." It just doesn't feel...quite right. Sure, I've enjoyed running in shorts for all but two weeks this entire winter.

But.

It's not what I'm used to.

You know what? I've had a rough time coming down this Ironman high. I'm just gonna lay it out there. I thrive on structure. Plans. For the past year of my life, that's how I lived. Really, two years, when I think that 2005 was filled with a spring marathon and a late-summer 70.3.

I'm getting better at this. Because, I have to. This is how it's going to be this year.

Pencil, Sara. Pencil...

Let's cue Paul Simon:

"Well I'm on my way....I don't know where I'm goin'...I'm on my way...I'm takin' my time, but I don't know where..."

Well.

So I'm here with a calendar, and with a plan that I will sort of follow week by week, and that's OK. Because, you know what? I'm a firm believer in the school of thought that you grow the most when you make yourself uncomfortable.

During the past two years of endurance event training, it's been uncomfortable sometimes.

(That's putting it mildly.)

And I loved it. But not every day, while I was doing it...sometimes I really wondered why or what business I even had doing it. But I look back now and know that I loved it and I loved what it's done to me.

So now, a new phase and a new year. This feels...uncomfortable. That seems like too weak an adjective, but it will have to do.

I'm going to just have to learn to adjust to this. I know, eventually, I'm going to look back and say how much I loved it. How much I loved the freedom to sleep a little later, run if I wanted to, do yoga when I wanted to, read a book when I wanted to. Start teaching a new class that's much harder and challenges me more, run a half-marathon with friends for fun, swim because it relaxes me and not because I-have-to-get-in-4000-yards-today-or-else.

I'm going to stand back in the crowd, now, and watch my friends...all of them, near and far. Because I am still young, and I still have a LOT to learn. I need to remember that Ironmans aren't going anywhere. That I am an Ironman. That I have many years of Ironman, and probably even other things that at one time or now seem impossible, left in me, and this year isn't one of them, but it's still a year to grow and learn and try every new thing I possibly can.

Shove me outside of my little box. Stick my head out of the ground on January 10th, even if it doesn't make sense.

Confusion can be good, because unless you feel just a little, teensy bit lost sometimes, how on earth are you ever going to get going?