My thighs are throbbing. I suppose that’s a good sign. It means I actually got off the couch and made it to the YMCA this week. Easier said than done.
Monday morning, I woke up actually excited to begin to train for this crazy triathlon. The Narrator found (all part of his plan) a .pdf of a training program for me to follow. It said I was supposed to bike for 30 minutes on Monday. I knew that getting to the Y 5-6 times a week was going to be tough. Monday morning was Little Miss Sunshine’s dance class (complete with new tap shoes from Payless and no drama whatsoever, hooray!). I had schemed in my head that I would go after the kids got up from their nap, and if they slept too late for me to fit in a workout before supper time then I’d go after supper.
Little Miss slept until 4 p.m. Not enough time to get there, check them in to the play center, do the bike ride, get them unchecked, get home, and get dinner on the table before every one was completely cranky.
So I planned on going after dinner. Then The Narrator called. He had to work late. As soon as I hung up the phone, both kids hit high levels of whine. I lost all motivation to train. Ever.
Just then an old friend showed up at the front door – Mr. Resentment. I opened the door just a crack, and he stuck his foot in. “Uh-huh, not today,” I said. He looked at me surprised. He never asks to be invited. He doesn’t have to. Resentment is smart, he knows just when to show up, when the mood is right for conversation. “I’m changing things around here,” I informed him. He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. He never says much, just a gentle prompt to get me going. “He worked out over lunch.”
I wish I could say that I shut the door at this point, knowing the conversation was headed nowhere good. But I was tired. And lonely. And a little conversation felt good. “I know, I know, so he can do his workouts over lunch and not have to worry about kids schedules and snacks and drinks, he can just pick up and go, so that’s just the way it is! I’m the MOM!”
“He’s working late.”
“So, ok then he works late and it’s a long, tiring day for me and I have the kids longer than usual and just won’t be able to get a work out in at all. I can’t do anything about it. It’s not fair, is it? No, I’m not going to go there. No, it doesn’t seem fair! No, I know he’d rather be here and he….” I sighed, knowing what I had to do.
“Resentment, I AM going to do this race. You can’t stop me. You tire me out and weigh me down. So, this is goodbye. Don’t come back. And if you do, you won’t be welcome. End of discussion.” I slammed the door.
By the time The Narrator came home I was exhausted. He kept urging me to go to the Y anyway, but I didn’t. I just didn’t feel like it. And we needed diapers. And I felt like sewing, because sewing makes me happy.
And here, I thought this was about training myself for swimming, running, and biking. Looks like it’s going to be a lot more than that.
(I finally made it on Thursday. And Friday. Two days in a row! Hence, the throbbing thighs.)