In a matter of days I will embarke on my first triathlon. My body has transformed somewhat which I am rather pleased with. After all I kick my own ass several times per week. What's important here is how I got here. I have to make an effort to do it. My YMCA has a child care center - so my son can play, or rather I can work out while he plays. Fortunately he is such a happy little guy that he actually enjoys it. However, twice I have been so overcome with guilt while riding the stationary bike I had to stop and go get him. After all the poor kid is in day care all day, he spends an hour with me and I drop him back off at yet another day care center? ALL because I am trying to train for a triathlon? Something feels wrong about that inside of me. I recently came up with a better solution though. I time my work out to coincide with the "open swim" hour. I do my 400 yards and race through the locker room and scoop blondie boy up, wrap a bathing suit around him and take him swimming! ta-dah! He loves it.
I float on my back with him on my chest and he pretends to swim. At least it is a temporary patch to my guilt.
So back to my point. I wanted to do a triathlon the day I found out I weighed 205 pounds. Granted I was 9 months pregnant, but still! 205 pounds?!! I spent the first 6 weeks of my sons life going for brisk walks and trying to loose the weight. TOUGH job when you are sleep deprived. In the past two years I have gathered the courage to go through a divorce and fight Grave's Disease. Last summer my body went hyperthyroid on me making me very sick. I lost about 2 pounds a day, and had no strength. I couldnt turn the shower off, or lift a gallon of milk. I also couldnt sleep. My resting heart rate was around 140. This is all behind me now and I am finally stronger than ever. Finishing this triathlon represents an end to an old way of life. A paradigm shift into a whole new life oriented around doing what's best for me, first. I hope I can really grasp onto this and weave this thread through my love life too.