Commitment Shy?

The Big Day is two weekends away. Really. I sort of told myself that after all the visitors left, I’d stop drinking wine and show 100% commitment to the cause. I’ve been awful good at adhering to punishing schedules but have managed to artfully dodge those chapters in training manuals which dictate what I should and should not be putting in my body in preparation for the triathlon. Presently, I’d hazard a guess my quinoa to alcohol consumption ratio is a little off balance.

So the last visitor left yesterday and here I sit with water. A mint tea will follow. The wine glasses clink together like empty, lost souls in the cupboard above my laptop as I type.

I have a chance to blog. I’ve missed this, my creative outlet amidst all the sweat, pump and grind of training for this triathlon. Because even though we’ve had visitors staying over the past three weeks, I’ve still been training. How’s that for commitment?

Here’s how far I’ve taken commitment. My dear friend visits from the UK with her new baby. She’s less than 24 hours in the country when I leave her at our home with ingredients for a salad and instructions on re-heating a chilli in our microwave so I can compete in a mini-triathlon. I run while she’s here, I bike. I steal her husband one evening and make him swim with me (not just for the sake of it you understand but because he’s a crazy good swimmer...)

My brother visits and I don’t teeter from the schedule – I swim, bike, run. I then have the audacity to make him cheer me on at an 8k road race, starting time 8.30am. He didn’t even get a chance to shower.

This is commitment. Or maybe it’s just being selfish. Either way, these visitors got my script before they arrived. I have this triathlon see, I’m still going to have to train. I’m thankful for their understanding but far more grateful for their company and for the soul-feeding laughs and heart-to-hearts over a bottle of wine (each night) while they visited. I am usually a weekend drinker – a glass of red with my DiGiorno’s pizza and the like. The recycling bins groaning outside with the weight of green glass accumulated over the past three weeks tell a different story.

Of course, something had to give and it was the blogging. And honestly, I found it hard not having the chance to ferret away on the blog.

It has shown me that writing about and training for the triathlon are now strangely intertwined – one feeds the other. And that, essentially, is me. I am not just the sporty one in battered Asics running shoes and purple neon vest, I am the creative too. And sometimes when I run, my head becomes so void of day to day drudge and open to the beauty around me it’s even possible to trace lines of poetry along the seams of clouds. Or at the very least, find something poetic to muster about road kill I pass along the way.

Furthermore, I take your support with me when I train. You people have shown me some serious love since I started blogging. Frankly, it’s kind of bowled me over. And as I approach this final stretch before the race, your encouragement has really helped keep me focussed and on the job when my emotional and physical energies have started to flag.

These past few months I’ve done a stellar job at being accountable to myself. But I’m a little tired now. My commitment is waning. I’d rather watch the Bachelorette than plug 20 miles into the bike. I need an hour to get to and from the pool. That hour could be spent on the internet - Googling ‘Kardashian/ West’ baby’ or filling my cyber basket with stuff I don’t really need from Boden.

Of course, having come this far, I would never veer off course. But now I also have you to keep me accountable and committed. In a good way. You have my back as they say in these parts. And somehow I don’t think you’ll be judging my quinoa to alcohol input ratio either.

So will I abstain from wine during these next two weeks? Probably not. I think I’ve more than shown my commitment for the event thus far. This triathlon is not having my wine too....



Me and My Bro...





...At Wine O'Clock...