Survival Guide

So Coach Emily asked me how the workouts were lately, and I told her great--in fact, I was kind of hungry for a little more!

Oh, see?  I'm being all cute again.  Look at me thinking I'm in control of my time!

No sooner than I had typed that very phrase "ready for a little more," then things got INSANE.

First of all, Matt went out of town Monday through Wednesday to the eTech conference in Columbus.  He was selected to go and it was quite an honor, because he's awesome.  But I was definitely terrified about getting everyone dressed, with some semblance of hygiene, lunches and bags in hand out of the house by 7:05am by myself.  Bug's been hit or miss lately in the morning and we have mornings where he's sleepy but relatively pleasant to mornings when he's a total bear and we hear things like "NO I WILL NOT WEAR THAT SHIRT!" and then he will run upstairs and put on Buzz Lightyear boxer shorts and a paint-covered hoodie and call that stylin'.  All of which makes for very interesting mornings.

It was a 72-hour blur but I got it done.  Single Parents out there....RESPECT.  You are superhuman.

Then that obviously put me pretty far behind on not only school but workouts.  Monday night was a struggle and a battle so I needed to work out.  The trouble was that I couldn't get Bug completely in bed until about 9.  So I finished my workout at 10:15.  The good news:  now able to do FOUR whole chinups! (but still no pull-ups....sigh)  And I did some pretty fast pushes on the 'mill. But the bad news?  I was WIRED until almost 1am.  Then that threw me off Tuesday, and left me pretty much a pile of tears and exhaustion by Wednesday.

I did force myself out of the house to attend my buddy Dani's spin class Wednesday night.  I came home  a much happier person.  I also told Matt that "exercise is my crack."  Not that I know, of course.  I'm just guessing.

Thursday and Friday were spent getting ready for Bean's 2nd Birthday party, which involved 35 people (10 of whom were under 6) and lots more craziness.  I had to get all the monkey stuff ready for my little Monkey Bean.

Note: copious amounts of crock pots

By Saturday, I was in need of a fix before the party or I was afraid I might explode and turn my frosting into a weapon of mass destruction.  I set out for an hour run and FLEW!  Talk about pent-up energy.  I had to make it an even 7 miles, so I did just that in 1:00.49 for an average pace of 8:42.  That is fast for me.  Coach had me doing "10 minutes lower than tempo" and I was really hoping she meant "slower" and forgot the "s," but I manned up and decided to go faster than tempo.  Tempo for me is about 8:00/miles, and I am pleased to report that I hit the 10 minutes with an average of 7:55.  Yay me!

Boo me!  I got home at 3:30.  Party started at 4.  So much for stretching!  Or looking cute!

Quickly tried to make more food (because enough to feed an army apparently wasn't enough) and finally got in the shower at--wait for it--3:45.  Awesome.  I was on the verge of tears by this point, but knew I had a damn good run and that made it all better.  I was really hoping everyone was late but of course no one was.

They all had a hoppin' good time.

Now?  Yeah.  Now I'm staring at 30 DBQs and they're all, HA! You're screwed.

And considering each one takes me 10-15 minutes to grade, I'm all, yes.  Yes, I am.  

So it got me thinking how a few years ago, this week would have RUINED me.  I would have looked at this week as a complete and utter failure and a sign of my imminent demise.  That surely I would never recover.

But now?  I'm like, whatever.  It's February, self.  Chill.  Tomorrow is Monday, and hallelujah for that! Clean slate!  New week on WorkoutLog!  Close the book on this week.  Survival was the name of the game this week, and survive I did.  Here's my advice to anyone out there with a couple of variables--I mean, kiddies--who is having a rough week.  Meet me at Camera 2, please.

Hi.


It's me. 


First of all, you're fine.  Deep breath.  This too shall pass.  


Here's why you really shouldn't beat yourself up:


Life is unpredictable, and that's what makes it great.  One lost week where you worked out less than you did at 39 weeks pregnant will NOT make or break your race in September, okay?  So just stop.  It won't.  Remember when you told your husband that if your kid doesn't play soccer at age 4 this year it doesn't mean he'll automatically get cut from the high school team?  Yeah.  It's time to apply that mentality to yourself.  Realize that when your kids are running around with pants on their head dancing, that this qualifies as one of those moments you don't want to miss.  And just laugh.  The DBQs, and the treadmill, will be there later.


Think about what you did do this week.  How, in a basement full of baby doll shoes and Tomica cars, you busted out some serious diamond push-ups and FOUR! WHOLE! CHINUPS! INAROW! (and thought about a pull-up) and on Saturday you squeezed in a seriously fast run because you were serious, yo'.  No one, and I mean NO ONE was going to take that run away from you.  So you made it count.  You poured your heart and soul into that run.  Because in the end?  That's the kind of stuff that gets you to the finish line.  Not the missed minutes here and there.  The heart and soul you put into the other minutes.  

So stop the lashings.  Close the book.  Pencil down on this week.  Tomorrow, start fresh, and remember how good it felt to be running and spinning and lifting in secret this week, just for you, just to get stronger.  Now take that strong and run with it.


Love,
TST

And Bug...

And my sweet little Bean, too.  Happy birthday Emmy Bean--I love you.