Stream of consciousness

Well here I am....16 days out from IM Wisconsin. Here is some stream of consciousness from the past few weeks.

Week One:
"OK Self, use your brain. It's still 6 weeks until your event. Carefully plan your rehab, and it will all fall in place. Andrew is going to tease you when you are standing on the start line raring to go...All that fuss for nothing."

Week Two:
"Geez, maybe I'm just trying too hard and giving too much stimulus to the area. I have spent hundreds of dollars of physiotherapy and massage. I'm grateful for the expertise I'm getting...but maybe I should just buy a T.V. and chill out!"

Week Three:
"OK, Powers that Be, I realize that I've been greedy. I'll trade my IM experience for comfort while sleeping, driving, and playing with Maddy...oh, and maybe paddle boarding too...or is that too greedy?"

Week Four:
"Ok ok subconscious. Pipe down. Don't get excited. I know it's getting a little better. Yes, you're right...it didn't even hurt walking with Maddy to the park. Oh stop it, that wasn't really a run...but you're right, it felt pretty darn good. Remember, I haven't even tried the bike yet. OK YES, I'm excited, it's WAY better!!! But that doesn't mean I'm racing...so calm down."

What a wild few weeks. As I mentioned in my first blog entry, I NEED to exercise. I could feel my sanity slipping as the days went by with a low heart rate. At one point I did SpiroTiger (a device to train your respiratory system) for an hour, just to breathe really hard and see if it would lift my spirits. It actually worked a little, as I loved feeling of at least one part of me being tired for a moment.

With all this extra time, I attempted to get a few things done...some accounting, homework for a course I'm taking, a start on my long term business plan etc. I was about as successful as a crack addict with ADHD.

The real highlight of these weeks has been the support from my beautiful family. Imagine coming home from a long stint of work with a few night shifts thrown in, with a long commute in 35 degree heat, in the height of your own Ironman training, barely getting enough rest and sleep, and arriving home to a CRAZY person. Somehow my remarkable husband was able to love me when I was unloveable, and subtly coax me in the right direction for recovery. My sweet daughter is wise beyond her 6 years, and the essence of joy. She has taken on my return to fitness as a mission, and gone paddling with me while I swam, and biked with me while I walked. Most importantly, I was reminded every moment where my priorities lie.