Let's set the stage for a moment. I had no intention of blogging today. However, as I lounged on the couch just after working, eating hummus and drinking a borderline tasteless but oh-so-refreshing carbonated adult beverage, I sensed another presence in the room. I have been more on edge than normal this week so I immediately muted the television (if you can hear the kidnapper he won't get you) and froze (if you never move he can't see you). Heartbeat drumming in my ears, I noticed movement just past my elbow. I then recognized the unwanted visitor as I leapt from the couch, emitting a most-ladylike and mortifying squeal as I searched for the most dated issue of Southern Living I could find on the coffee table. Winter recipe catalog in hand, I proceeded to redeem my girlish outburst and valiantly squashed my newest nuclear fallout-immune friend with one swat. I then immediately grabbed my purse and did what any self-respecting woman would do. I ran out of the house to my favorite fro-yo joint.
Sitting in the early evening sun enjoying my fresh cup of red velvet swirl, I began thinking about my recent promise to participate in a triathlon with my sister Jane. Mostly I considered how utterly unmotivated I am. When I started this blog a few months ago I had a new workout routine in hand, plenty of encouragement on-call, and first day of school giddy feelings in my belly. I currently suffer from the opposite of those feelings. I mean, I wouldn’t even train for this race if I didn’t think my body would shut down and they’d have to cart me off the trail during the last leg. However, I have begun to cling to an improbable but alluring goal for the last hour. I, youngest of seven and flaky by nature (let’s just call it curious to the point of abandoning past ventures), could finally overcome all odds and stick to the plan. More importantly, I just. Might. Beat. Jane.
Is this my ultimate goal? Of course not. I am beyond excited to train with Jane, to compare notes on how to best prepare ourselves, race beside (God-willing) and encourage her as she does the same for me, have something to work towards, yada yada yada. But in light of the current national, dare I say even global, climate I am motivated by the deep need to win this one. Jane is just my means to an end, the finish line of my very first triathlon. I would feel bad for the target I’ve now put on her back, but don’t write me off just yet. She needs a goal for training as well. Here is my proposal, dear Jane (who, I should mention, is just one short year past figure competitions and the most insane training regimen and self-discipline I’ve ever witnessed): Each missed day of training requires a monetary deposit (amount tbd) in our celebration fund. This fund will be used to assist the loser’s bill in our second, and hopefully even more epic, date-away-from-home. Winner picks the city and first bottle of wine, loser picks the restaurant. I’ll start researching tonight. Something has to distract me from all these weddings besides the wedgie I’m going to have from my one piece when I swim laps tomorrow. Goal set, let’s see how this one goes!
Char thoughts:
- Sometimes I do things that make me wonder how I made it to 23 - I wish someone would read to me when I’m driving - I’m now at the age when I’m mistaken as the mom instead of the older sister - The moment you realize there’s a huge zit on your face and you wonder how you missed it the first four days it must have been forming - I’m really scared I just doomed myself to failure when Jane reads this - I think I might have the most incredible family in the whole world, except I don’t just think it, I know -
