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.

So, This Whole Blogging Thing? I'm Kinda Over It.

I was sitting here tonight, feeling like ass, again. I haven't trained since Sunday. SUNDAY.

Fuck.

I can't get over how I get sick either before or after EVERY SINGLE RACE.

Then I sit here and whine for days or weeks about how off-track I am.

So I wandered over to Wes' blog to re-read his recount of the Ironman FL run and to read his recap, and I started craving that feeling I get when I cross the finish line of a long race. And Hector e-mailed me the schedule for next year, and I realized I'm already doing some of the club races. And I thought about the PRs I've had this year. And everything I've gone through, and I'm still getting stronger, smarter, faster - and, every week, pounds closer to my "normal" weight.

I may be slow as shit, but I'm still moving. Dammit.

And then I got to thinking about how, before I was really blogging, and when I'm not really blogging, I just sort of naturally drift toward training. But the minute I have to be accountable and share it with other people, well . . . there's all this guilt associated with it, and with not doing it. Even on the days when I feel sick I don't give myself a break. Right now I'm sitting here trying not to throw up, and I'm screaming at myself for not running yet this week.

I wonder how different things would be if I just went back to writing it in my training calendar? Hmmmm. Just a thought.

Today, I did something I’ve never done before.

Today I did something I've never done before: nothing.

Don't adjust your computer screen - you read correctly. I did nothing. All morning. And I did it with absolutely no guilt or regret or thoughts of what I could be accomplishing otherwise.

I didn't get out of bed until 7am. At 7, I went downstairs and plopped myself on the sofa, where I fell back asleep till 10. TEN!!! DOUBLE DIGIT SLEEPING, FOLKS!! I spent the rest of the morning catching up on Ugly Betty and watching football. I didn't even take a shower or make the bed until noon. Actually, at this point I haven't even eaten, and I'm still sitting here watching football and f'ing around on the internet.

It is really nice.

I mean it. It's the first time I've ever been okay with just lazing around all morning. Yes, I need to get dressed so I can feed myself and take my medicine. Yes, I need to study and put my 2007 race stuff in its shadow box so I can empty the memo board for next year's stuff. But I don't care. It'll happen. I'm not worried about it.

IMOF 2007 . . . holy, holy Hannah. I can't even begin to run down all the excitement. From movies I didn't end up watching and drunken sushi dinners that were never supposed to happen to happy hours to 80-hour workweeks to marathons, weekend trips and sinus infections, to growing a pair of balls at work to Thanksgiving to qualifying for my first mortgage to finding a great roommate until I buy my first place, to two of my good friends getting married to meeting new people to crazy escapades at slightly-sleazy bars to great conversations to spending time with family to exams to research papers to Maggiano's and everything else I might have forgotten. And IMOF 2007 was definitely wrapped up with a bang last night.

I plan on spending the rest of the weekend doing as little as possible, because the hard work begins when this weekend ends. I am officially registered now for the St. Anthony's Olympic Triathlon in St. Pete the weekend of April 25-28 - that will be my last practice race before the Half Ironman. All I have to do now is arrange bike transport for the NYC Tri in July and pick my little practice races.

So, as we bid the IMOF adieu and enjoy a last bit of tasty freedom, we slide into December only slightly tired and hungry, with a giant smile, in a (cute) pair of pajamas.

2007-2009 Goals

In the spirit of IM Able (declaration of intent here), and while thinking of Tea (20% undertraining is better than 1% overtraining), I thought I'd scratch all my grouchy, half-assed posting from yesterday and instead share with you the "Goals Sheet" I made for myself last week.

But the grumps took over. My average blood pressure the past few days has been 80-something over 40-50something. Yeah, I'm basically dead. I know, because I feel like it. Trying to stay "up" or "on" for 8 hours? Forget it. Trying to focus? Really forget it. Trying to lift weights? Oh, fucking PLEASE, forget it. (Although somehow I've still managed to crank out a whole bunch of work and my boss is very pleased. Tell me how my 10-20% is someone else's 80-100%??? How is that even possible?) Tonight there is a networking function for work, and I'd really like to go, but it requires me to change shirts and be "on" for about 3 hours. I do have the entire day off tomorrow, because tomorrow afternoon I'm driving to Jax for the Marine Corps Half, and my derm appointment is late (shut up, 9:30am is late), so I could sleep in the morning. But still.

Speaking of Ze Half, wonder how that's going to go over after a week of no running, coming down off a 15-18 mi week? Ugh. Plus bleh. And argh. I wasn't too worried about it until today. Today I'm feeling pretty craptacular. But undertraining and a good taper seem to do my body good, and I'm hoping the burst of racing will throw me back into the training ring while pumping my heart rate and BP back up to a healthy level. I do see my cardio in a couple weeks, so I can ask questions then about the icky spells I've been having. (I see a special arrhythmia dude at the Orlando Heart Center's Cardiac Arrhythmia Center).

I really need to pull it together before Philly. Ok, ok, let's just do a lil' bit o' goal-ing before I outgrump myself.

General Life Goals

Be more authentic

Get in touch with my inner philanthropist

Become more balanced; veer away from extremes

Health Goals

• Fewer dizzy spells, less headaches, less sleepiness, less meds, lower cholesterol, higher BP

Fitness Goals

• Do an Ironman
• Do headstands in yoga
• Consistently place in top 30% of my age group
• Run single-digit per-mile times in all short road races (13.1 mi or shorter)

Education Goals

• Get my PhD

Career Goals

• Find some way to connect sports, philanthropy, and love of education - this one may be easier than you can imagine. I think I might get my PhD in Sports Psychology, earn holistic nutrition certifications from the Institute of Integrative Nutrition, and cater as a holistic physical/mental/emotional counselor to triathletes, runners and golfers.

Now, there is a ginormous excel spreadsheet of all of this, but until I figure out how to link it, you can't see it. I have a couple of questions for each goal: what does this mean to me? what will I gain from it? what will I have to sacrifice? what are my milestones? and milestone dates? So, I won't bore you with those details, but great-jumping-Jesus-on-a-pogo-stick, (please don't be offended), I am going to be busy for the next 10-15 years.

Well, let's deal with the immediate: the half. Any time of 2:40 or less will make me happy. (Fuckit, finishing will make me happy, but that's my time goal when I do finish.)

Yes, it's another spirtual experience at yoga . . .

So, I went to yoga again at 9am this morning, which was admittedly difficult after all of yesterday's excitement. Yesterday morning's session was wonderful, and even my bad leg didn't give me a hard time - in fact, because of yoga, I felt lovely for the rest of the day.

Not this morning. I could barely do any of the poses. I was so stiff. I tried really hard, but I couldn't. And it's really frustrating for me, as someone who is so flexible that I'm used to having yoga instructors approach me to help me into more challenging poses, to be trying to go into upward bow and hear Calvin telling Theresa, "Get Meggan down, get Meggan down." Apparently, although I look just like this when I'm in upward bow, the way I got into it was not so good.

Anyway, when it came time for shava-asana (meditation), I was lying there thinking my usual thoughts about getting present and trying not to perform and (of course) wishing I was as flexible as I used to be, and about all the sweating and de-toxing I was doing. My mind wandered back to that upward bow and how T&C wanted me to stay down in a regular backbend. My yoga instructors are just like my tri coaches, I thought. Always telling me I'm trying to go too far, too fast. Then I thought for a few minutes about nice it would feel to just be instead of pushing so hard to be great, and I realized that trying to be great all of the time is a toxin itself.

I'm not saying we all shouldn't try to be great, and I definitely won't stop trying to be great (and that extends to my personal, school, tri and work life). But there really is something to be said for knowing when the time to be great has come, and for reocognizing that what is great for you is not great for someone else, and vice versa (3:53:17 is not a great Olympic time for many.) There is also something to be said for being where you are at that moment. For getting out of whether you like something or dislike it. Osho said, "To set up what you like against what you dislike is the disease of the mind." Do I like the pain that comes with training and wish I could avoid some parts of it (like running hill repeats)? Yes. Does it matter in the end whether I liked it or didn't? No. What matters is that I did it.

There will be plenty of time for me to be great, for me to be advanced. I'm not even 30. I have my whole life. What is more important is being completely aware of - and okay with - where I am right now. Because if I'm not living right now, where am I living? In the past, which is already done and therefore immovable; in the future, which has yet to be and is, to some degree, completely out of my hands, but is largely created by what I am doing right now. Refusing to be in the present, to be okay in the present, is denying myself the future.

Wish me luck on my first run since the race tomorrow morning. I know that whatever happens is meant to be.

Notes on nothing

So, remember how Seinfeld was a show about nothing? This past week has been my own personal version. Even right now I'm doing nothing: drinking a beer, waiting for a friend to come over, listening to the last couple loads of laundry spin. I'm not even wearing makeup. I've done all my homework and I'm getting my laundry caught up and cleaning up the house. I may go grocery shopping - I may not.

Nothing.

On Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday, I didn't even work out. I slept until EIGHT A. M. several days this week. EIGHT A.M.?!!?!?! Imagine what I got done that morning.

Nothing!

I rode 11 miles on Thursday and did a power yoga class today. I'll do yoga again tomorrow and Tuesday night, and on Tuesday morning I'll try a 1-mile run. Wednesday morning I will swim and I'll go to class at night; Thursday I'll run again (if Tuesday went ok; if not, bike) and do strength at night; Friday I'll bike ride in the morning and run at night it Thursday went ok (if not, I'll bag the PM workout or swim). Saturday I'll swim at Lucky's and Sunday I'll do power yoga and another run if Friday went ok.

See? Nothing.

Next week will be Week 9 in the Novice Marathon Plan, so I should be able to jump back into it - it's a stepback week, or maybe week 10 is, but either way I'll jump back into a stepback week if this week goes well.

In the mean time, I'm enjoying doing nothing. My body and mind are thanking me. I'm appreciating spending time with friends I haven't seen during tri season. But, and I want this to go down on the record, in black and white, for posterity, as a reminder, to me and anyone else who goes through a big race or a big training period and takes a break . . . .

Doing nothing feels good, but it feels nowhere NEAR as good as doing SOMETHING. And something feels nowhere near as good as doing everything you can.