This Is a Blog About Nothing.

When the hit show "Seinfeld" first came out, a lot of people asked the creators what the show was all about it.  Famously, Jerry Seinfeld told them, "Nothing! It's a show about nothing!"
What does that mean?!!?!

The show followed its cast of zany characters around New York with no real recurring plot line.  Every episode was like a snapshot of their daily lives.  You could (and can still) tune in without knowing what happened the episode the week, day or month prior.

I like for my blog to be the same way.

There's another reason I brought up NOTHING.

In my dreams, I am a tattooed, badass, mega-charity-supporting Ironman like Kristin McQueen, who trains in spit of my multiple illnesses, battles through my equilibrium challenges, sports my "MAking Cancer My Bitch" sign at marathons and Iron-distance races, and takes setbacks in stride because I have learned to make the best of, among many things, my overwhelming non-thyroid-having fatigue.  McQueen writes, "To me a survivor embraces what is in front of them with their entire being. That means feeling all the good and bad because we’re not human if we ignore the bad. However, that does not mean dwelling on the negative. My pity parties are not allowed to last more than one day. A survivor just accepts the added challenges and finds a way to do what they love despite them. It’s about not letting the disease invade your spirit . . . . Taking charge of your life is being a survivor." 

Or, I am a tattooed, badass, pint-sized, former-hockey-playing triathlon phenom like Heather Jackson, who came from a world where men dominated but was just too fiercely determined to not skate her socks off and beat them. Jackson, with her infectious grin and in-your-face New England pride, recently made her foray into triathlon and has been placing top 5 alongside seasoned pros now for about 3 seasons despite her lack of swimming or running background like most top female triathletes.

Apparently, in my dreams, I'm a tattooed badass.  (Does that mean I need more tattoos or more ass?!)

Seriously, though.   The recurring theme is that both of these women are atypical athletes, and instead of bemoaning it, they've both chosen to embrace it.

I could use a dose of their chutzpah this week.  I'm just having one of those weeks where I don't want to do ANYTHING.

NOTHING.

I don't want to swim, bike, or run.  I don't want to do yoga, soccer, pilates or weightlifting.  I want to do

NOTHING.

Last night was the worst.  I didn't think I felt too bad - I just didn't want to have anywhere to be.  I wanted to sit home on the couch sipping vino.

So I did what any good, non-motivated, sluggish athlete would do.

I dragged myself to Masters.


I swim Masters with all men.  It's really frustrating because they're so much faster and taller.  Add that to my general malaise and disorganization in the water and it's a recipe for an emo shitstorm.

Last night, after they all whipped my ass, and Coach made us do 400 back drills followed by 400 breaststroke drills, I almost cried.

I know, I know.

THERE'S NO CRYING IN SWIMMING

A lot of people tell me they have vertigo, or have had vertigo, or they know what it's like being dizzy.  I have it almost all the time, so I don't really know what it's like NOT to be dizzy.  But the only time I really notice it is in the water.  I'm sure there's lots of scientific evidence about why, so I'll let the research nerds among us look that up, but even on a great day on land, the water throws me for a loop.  But

I

EFFING

SUCK

AT

BACKSTROKE

I can pull a mean butterfly out of my you-know-what for maybe 50 yards and I love the way fly looks now that I can sort of do it. I am worse at breast because I can't do the legs right, and I will tell you I hate it for that reason, but backstroke really jacks with my vertigo.  I can't backstroke straight.  By 25 yards I don't know what country I'm in, and I get sick of shoving the lane lines away vehemently.  I've even almost puked in the water.

This morning, I got to thinking about what would HJ or McQueen do?

I'm sure they wouldn't do NOTHING.

I read HJ's race report about Vineman.  And I read one of McQueen's articles about being a survivor. And they reminded me of a few things:

It's ok to have a bad day . . .  as long as it's just a day and not your entire outlook/training plan/week. 
Looking back over a few years of progress can give you good perspective about where you currently are.
Wine can sometimes be an acceptable recovery drink.

 
Ok, so maybe I made the last one up :)

I had myself a nice "nothing" morning before work.  I swept, I blogged.  Things I don't normally do in the morning.  They'd make me crazy if I had them all the time, but sometimes a "nothing" morning is nice.
Happy Winesday.  Er, Wednesday.

2 tidbits of wizdom:

Wes said...

It's not the good days. It's not the bad days. It's the weaving/combining of them into a "life", and that's a beautiful thing.

Yea, you're a badass too, and whether its more bad or ass, it matters not. Carry on! You're lookin good.

Alili said...

Yes, 100% yes. You are a badass and it was only one day...sometimes it's one foot in front of the other and sometimes it's prop your feet up with a glass of wine. Balance!

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