I have noticed when I slip into psycho mode that I become obsessed with working out, but also other things. Like right now, I am convinced that the Expert and I could start a parenting seminar. Not because we know how to raise children, but rather, because precisely because we DON’T know what we are doing, and we can tell parents “that’s okay”. New parents inevitably do not believe it is okay to be “bad” parents sometimes. By bad, I mean: giving yourself a break, taking time away from the kids, shutting yourself in the closet to cry sometimes, feeding them Happy Meals for three days in a row. And I’m convinced that being a “bad” parent is sometimes the only way to survive to make it to the next stop (choo choo: good parent).
So anyway, I am in full, all-out, obsessive triathlon training mode. I want the new bike. I read for hours about wetsuits (mostly, because they are a mystery). I am stalking my chiropractor to get in for an adjustment today, even though they are closed. I am going crazy. I want to run run run and get on my bike, even though today, I am scheduled to rest and stretch. Plus, I started the book Born to Run which I hear from my Marathon Friend will make me even more psycho. If possible.
The more I look into triathlon, the more I realize that all of these TRI people are crazy (I say this, as I watch the 2010 Ironman World Championships, muted, while I listen to rap music on my at-home spin bike). I say, these people are crazy as I read and re-read every single word of my triathlon and running magazines until the pages are almost worn thin. And all this, with the farthest distance I have run being 5.5 miles. I am crazy, and that’s okay. I love this.