Saturday, May 21, 2016

Rays of Joy on a Rainy Day

The sky outside after our swim today.  Beautiful.
It would have been so much easier to spend the afternoon reading and eating brownies. So . . . comforting.  After all, I had already run a 5K this morning.  Why not take the afternoon off?  

And when heavy rains arrived about 2pm, that very easily could have happened.  However, my busy 15 year old son had agreed to go swimming with me; and I'm not one to turn down such an offer. Moments later, when the sun streamed out between the clouds, the message to me was clear:  Get your gear packed.  You're not done.   
And it hit me: my upcoming triathlon is only two weeks away!  

Even though I am pretty sure I can finish the sprint distance without drowning, crashing, or crawling (I hope), I still feel butterflies stirring.  I have fantasies of an age group award . . . and although unlikely, I cling to it like a celebrity crush.


One mile swim today.  I wouldn't have done it without my
son's willingness to join me.  Anything for his company-
even if we are swimming three lanes apart.




After this morning's disappointing 5K race time, I drove to the pool in the company of my eldest son.  Watching him glide through the water like a shark, I tried (and failed) to emulate his stroke and ease.  My time was slower than usual, but I completed my mile and felt great about having made the effort.
John Robert in a rare moment of pride last summer,
sporting his swim meet accomplishments.

I thought by age 48 (almost), I would have come to grips with whatever my life has been and be coasting down the backside of the hill in calm acceptance.  I thought all my definitions of myself would have been carved out and determined.  Not so.  

I am still looking at myself in the mirror in surprise.  Who is this woman?  I am amazed that I'm discovering myself and striving toward new goals-- IRONMAN-- that I never before thought possible ... for me.  


I don't know what the future holds.  I do know that I want to try new things, explore, find my limits.  I want to learn new things and go where I've never been.  And so . . . here I am, looking at the parting clouds, feeling the joy, and wondering what is possible.









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