Okay, when I began this blog, I wrote that I would tell the circus story at some point…here it is:
I have no memory of this event, but it is a story my parents have told over and over through the years. When I was a little girl, 4 or 5 years old, my parents took me to a circus. It was a traditional event: big tent, elephants, trapeze artists, lion tamer, clowns – the whole package. My parents say that in the midst of all of this, I turned to the two of them and asked: “When are we going to do something?”
I know I’m high maintenance…just ask my husband and family. I know I need more stimulation than almost anyone I know. I know I cram more into one day than most people do in a week. But seriously, how can I possibly sit there and pedal that bike inside the gym for TWO AND A QUARTER HOURS?! I tried. I really did. I watched every channel on the screen (admittedly, each for about two minutes at a time), I listened to my iPod, I people-watched, I went through my to-do list in my head, I even tried to remember poems/passages I memorized in high school (O Captain, my Captain, The Highwayman, Puck’s speech, the Gettysburg address), which led to the sad realization that my grey matter is not retaining all it used to.
So at mile 29 of 35, I walked away. Keep in mind this was after a 3/4 mile swim, and it wasn’t fatigue that sent me, disgusted, to the locker room…it was utter, sheer, absolute, mind-numbing, soul-killing boredom. I couldn’t even get to an even 30. I take heart in the fact that it seems like spring is on the way, and the number of workouts I have to do inside is getting smaller and smaller. I plan to ride outside tomorrow if the temperature cooperates, and I’m using this blog for accountability’s sake. Give me the worst you’ve got. Bring it. I know I’m a slacker. A bad example. A fair-weather athlete (well, that one’s obvious).
Glad to get that all out.
Best random song: F**k her gently, Tenacious D
Thanks for reading…
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