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| Training a body for three hours on a bike trainer looks like this. |
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| Training a two-year-old looks like this. |
Mr. T. has continued in his quest for world domination over laziness by hitting the hay at a reasonable hour and waking before most roosters crow. He had a fairly large week training wise for this early in the season with regular training during the week (I don't think anything went longer than an hour) and a big, fat bike ride Saturday (3 hours) and a big, fat run on Sunday (ultimately, 11 miles on -- are you ready for this--a treadmill). He continues to not just sleep like it's his job, but also strength train, stretch, and roll. It's like he's . . . dedicated.
And as mentioned previously, he inspires me every time he does this.
Saturday, in particular, this thought came to a head. Friday night when he went to bed, he told me he was planning on a 7-10am ride the next day so he could get ahead of the day and not waste time that he'd normally spend with the minions. Here's the crazy part: he actually did it.
Last year we had all kinds of great plans to find ways to fit workouts in around the kids. And some of the time that happened. But the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. That certainly happened to us last year. Lots. But not this year.
And I'm inspired.
I don't have any revolutionary things that happened in my life last year, except that I found my groove in one area--work--by establishing regular work hours. I have this awesome unique job that allows me to work whenever I want to, and basically wherever an internet connection exists. It's a great job, but it's still a job, and there's still work to do. Ever since we've had kids, my personal discipline has waned, and I often turn into this awful, irritated, irrational monster to everyone in the house. Mr. Discipline suggested that I establish actual office hours last week, and then work within those hours and not allow distractions to come in (adios, Facebook, at least for that time).
It actually worked.
I set the boundaries, wrote them down, emailed them to Mr. T. so he knew them as well, and then stuck to them. Outside of the office hours, I no longer stress, at least not nearly as much, because I know when I'll complete the work I have.
Often I find the workouts of our lives, the races, the running, the activity, bleeding over into other areas. A run never really works out quite like just a run. It serves as a metaphor for something deeper eventually. And I recall when we were more disciplined last year and even this spring, we would note that we need to work hard when we have the time to do so. When we have an hour for a run, we need to run and not hem and haw over if we feel like it.
That's what I learned this past week. When I use the time I have, when I work with purpose, I can also play with purpose. Sunday night's movie and pizza night with the kids really IS movie and pizza night with the kids and not the kids watching a movie and eating a pizza while Mom works in the background.
Jason Troxell has taught me to do things on purpose. And I'm grateful for that today.
Until next week . . .
