Training

Training for my mid life crisis- it’s the name of my blog but also (one of ) the focus of my life right now.  

 I’m a little obsessed with working out.  

Growing up, I was always a loser when it came to sports.  I’m not sure when it happened, probably puberty, maybe even before, but I was never good at anything physical. I was always one of the last people picked in PE. My heart would race in the WAY outfield when the ball would occasionally come my way. I still can’t do a cartwheel. Once my required semesters of PE were over in high school, my overall confidence grew. I was good at other things – academics, art, and writing.  I decided that I didn’t want or need sports in my life. My metabolism could handle it. I wasn’t in perfect shape but I wasn’t obese and I didn’t look particularly unhealthy.   So I went with that.

Fast-forward 20 years later, when my older daughter began elementary school and also became a voracious reader and artist.  She couldn’t do a cartwheel, and she decides that she no longer wants to play soccer.  She starts saying to me, “I hate PE. I’d rather read.”   At the same time, my own metabolism slowed down and I know that I need to do something active to look good.  I join a gym, but fitting in the classes I liked was impossible (working part-time, and dealing with kindergarten and preschool pickups and a tiny tantrumming toddler).  So I just walked on the treadmill.  Walking doesn’t require any skill, but it was something.  I knew I needed more cardio, so I start running. I signed up for a 5k and just ran, randomly, with no plan.  When the 5K came up, I did it with gusto (if gusto is huffing and puffing behind a sweet looking 65+ year old couple).  But it was fun (wearing a number bib and having that cool chip on my shoe) and motivating. 

The last few years I’ve been working that occasional 5k model. In my head I want to go farther, but my body is weak. I signed up for a tri a triathlon (20 min swim, 30 min cycle, 20 min run).  It’s a long story that ends with me dropping out to throw up in the hallway.  Time to give up?  Naaa.

Nope, it’s time to get serious.  I’m gonna be an athlete in my 40s, no matter how hard it is for me to pull it out of my soft, artistic and academic body.

So I’m training for my midlife crisis – actually I’m training for a 10k. This time I’m not just running willy-nilly. I’ve downloaded the Nike app; I’m running with people 2x a week.  I’m drinking weird shakes and monitoring my water intake.    Kumar thinks I’m crazy or obsessed (maybe both).  But the more I talk about it, the more I say it out load, the more likely I am to succeed.  I’m an athlete.