Thursday, June 12, 2008

Funk

The title of today's post has less to do with the odor emanating from the running shoe box in my office than my present psychological state.

I don't think it will every be sunny in this goddamned city ever again. We have had 3 nice days in the past 30 (I am not counting the three days were it was over 90 degrees-that is not "nice"-"nice" is when you can sit outside in the afternoon and drink a beer without sweating through three t-shirts and risking heatstroke). Three.

The shoulder is taking much longer to heal than originally anticipated. I have already changed Blue Lake and Pac Crest to non-swimming events. And I had been consoling myself by thinking that Vashon Island was in 6 weeks and I had 4 weeks to get back to the pool. My concept of time is almost as screwed up as my mountain bike navigational skills. Vashon Island is a month from tomorrow. I can't get the PT office to call me back to set up an appointment. Am getting really crabby.

It's week six of boyfriend-less-ness. The intense psychic relief that I felt for the first few weeks has been replaced with a not insignificant bit of loneliness. It's not helping that Emily is leaving for Colorado in nine days. That'll be a big void that I'll have to fill over the next 6 months.

I have zero interest in doing the training that is necessary to take it to the next level. I desperately need to find something to help me, as Mo says, "harden the fuck up." Maybe the new mountain bike that I will be purchasing sometime very soon will help me find the motivation I need to make it through this funk.

2 comments:

(0v0) said...

Meh. Do you think that maybe the supraspinatus got torn--something more than strained? I am sure it is so tempting to ease back in to swimming-- I admire you for knowing you have to ease off even when it sucks to do that.

You are always welcome here in the land of neurotic dissertators.

mikey said...

New bike? w00t!