The Perfect Storm

The perfect storm was a true story about the sad fate of some north east fishermen who lost their lives in the convergence of multiple storm systems.  Well, The perfect storm has hit my training this week.  For me, it was the convergence of work stress, hormones and wrecked legs from what was supposed to be a relatively easy weight workout. 

The week had started out great, but things started to deteriorate Tuesday afternoon.  At times, my job requires me to teach classes to my peers.  I enjoy it, mostly, but lately its been stressful because the most recent topics were not fully ‘baked’ yet and I don’t like teaching when I don’t know all the answers and my peers can be a tough audience.  It’s also physical for me.  I’m very active during the class running from desk to desk, jumping around to keep their interest. Tuesday night I did my strength workout a little tired which was probably the mistake of the week.  I wasn’t warmed up enough and half assed some of the work.  A bad combination right there.   I got home, was very irritable and quiet most of the night.  The hubs said I was “Pissy” (oh I hate that word).

The storm is brewing…

Wednesday came and I was supposed to do an easy spin.  The alarm went off at 4 and I stood up and walked over to my clothes.  I was exhausted.  Made the decision to skip that workout (now I regret it bigtime) and sleep in so I could have a quality swim.  Yeeeaaaaahh.  Oh and Wednesday also marked the first day of my, well, you guys can figure it out.  All day Wednesday my legs were killing me, like “Everything hurts and I want to die” pain.  Had I done that easy spin, I could have worked some of that lactic acid out.  I felt rested overall, but in pain.  Fast forward to my swim and I felt fine.  Jumped in the pool and started swimming.  2700 yards on the plan.  First turn off the wall, “wow, my quads are STILL killing me”.   My warm up was slower than normal but didn’t think into it too much.  Then the kick sets started.  “OK, this is not good”.  I can go on and on about how much of a suck fest that swim was.  I only had one gear: Slow.  I completed the entire workout, but changed some of the focus to just get through the distance and swim with good form.  It’s yardage in the bank. 

This morning was to be my long run.  I love my long runs.  It’s my zen.  Woke up with still very sore legs, but I’ve run on sore legs before and usually a mile in they get better.  Usually.  Not today.  At the end of my 2, I was defeated and emotional.  I was thinking about the class I have to teach this afternoon, and the all-day class I have tomorrow and worrying about how that would impact my legs even more.  For a moment I cried from frustration.  Shut it down.  Today is not the day.  My internet friends are probably wondering where I am as I’ve ‘gone dark’ since last night with a messaged saying “Suck-tastic swim of epic proportions”.  Even as write this I’m seeing messages flash in about their runs this morning, how great they were.  I just don’t have it in my to react today. 

I have a planned rest day tomorrow and early morning texts to Jenni, we mutually agreed to skip tonight’s strength workout and to try to rest up.   Hopefully the skies begin to clear up as the day progresses.

This happens.  I know.  It’s that balance that we all write about.  I’m not a professional triathlete.  I’m a recreational one that has to fit all this in, in between work, family and life.   I’ll live.  And I’ll kick ass this weekend.