Tough Love

I allow myself ONE wallow in self pity/self loathing/hate the world/cry myself to sleep day per year.

This year I gave myself two, okay, one and a half. But it's over and done with and the end of it could not have come sooner. Thank God it came at the beginning of the year - it's all downhill from here!

After yesterdays little episode I did nothing but drag myself through the day.

I slept through my alarm and didn't swim this morning, sat in bed and considered not going to lab, went to lab (duh, who do you think I am?), highly considered not going to my discussion, didn't go to my discussion, went to FitRec and ran 2 miles, gave up on that, kind of ate...but really gave up on that too. Went to Dunkin' with the intent of getting coffee, walked in the door and forgot why I was there, thought about walking to the lab, then took the T.

The lab went well, basically I'm coming to find out "research assistant" turns into "woman get me coffee and go through this database."

So then I spent the larger portion of three hours putting a bunch of little tapes onto one big tape. THRILL of my life.

Okay then I got to go through a whole bunch of classified data and statistics...that was cool.

Then I literally forced myself to walk home.

Then I got chinese food which was, excuse my language but, the bomb diggity.

Okay so then came the wallow in self pity party...again. I came upstairs and bawled my eyes out - God I hate when I do that.

I thought about nationals and how much I would have to sacrifice to get there and how exhausted I am after the lab and work and volunteering and trying to keep my friends. I thought about how the hell I was going to pay for the couple hundred it's going to take to get me there and how I literally couldn't keep my eyes open.

So I started an e-mail to my coach that started out like this:

Vic, I'd rather say this in person but I figured it's best to let you know as soon as possible, and the next time I see you won't be until Monday so e-mail is the best I can do... Thank you so much for the opportunity to go to Nationals, it means a lot that you think I would represent the team well, but unfortunately I have to decline the invitation.

I know, right? So I sat there and stared at it. And stared at it. And tried to finish it. And give legitimate reasons for not going...but then I found myself filling it with whining and excuses.

If this is exactly what I wanted, then why was it so hard? This should be making my life EASIER. Think about it, not going to nationals gives me back almost four hours of my day. It gives me the "okay" to stay out all night, lay in bed on weekends, to drink and have my social life back. I would be able to lounge at dinner for hours with my friends and not wake up at the ass-crack of dawn to run, bike and swim. I wouldn't be sore all the time, my feet would be prettier, and I wouldn't be asked if I was, "beefing up" by the guy behind me in the smoothie line at fitrec. I would do half as much laundry and I wouldn't wreak of chlorine all the time. And maybe I would go to class in something other than sweatpants and a Tri-Hoodie.

So I'm all set to send this e-mail. To get out of this mess I put myself in. And then I decided to get a second opinion from probably the most logical person I know. He didn't seem too into the idea of my giving up on this, either. And the more he talked, the more I thought, "KATIE WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"

Call me masochistic, but all that is EXACTLY what I want. And if waking up at 6 am or staying at practice until 10:30 at night gets me there, and even if my eyes are always bloodshot and I'm shaken from all the caffeine and I'm too tired to eat, it really doesn't make me happy.

I just forgot. Kind of like I forgot why I went into Dunkin' Donuts.

So I jumped out of bed, threw on my swim stuff, and got to practice huffing and puffing 40 minutes late. I jumped in the pool before vic could yell at me and did the entire 4,000m workout. And it felt great.

So on Feb 11, my wallow in self pity day is officially over. And now it's bed time...So I can dream of P4s, dimpled wheels, Zoot running shoes, and speed suits. Feels good to be me again :)

love love love,

katie