Hard to believe a person could be this tired. Three weeks of competing do not get easier as the body gets older.
It was fun, though. Fitting everything in, changing the thought process fairly rapidly, and staying focused takes a lot out of a person. But I don’t recommend it, and I don’t plan to do it again anytime soon.
The next two weeks are about the holidays, and friends, gifts, baking, visiting, and trying to relax a bit. Of course, I did give myself the gift of a new athletic venture. I started boxing and kickboxing. Fine, go ahead and laugh. It’s actually a good idea. Works the hand-eye coordination and balance stuff; skills that aging tends to take away. Very different from the run-bike-swim rut I am so used to doing every day. Turns out that I cannot jump rope, which is the opening cardio station for every workout. I mean, I really cannot jump rope. I have the coordination of a doorknob. But everything else I can handle fairly well.
It’s been a year, folks. Two years, really. Seeing few people, going few places, caution and calculated risk the order of every day. When does normalcy come back? It doesn’t, for now. But living our lives while adapting to shortages can be a positive revelation; if you can’t find what you like or what you want, it’s a perfect opportunity to try something new. Many of us find or have found that the 9-to-5 job routine is overrated, and made changes (count me in on this; I am looking for a new job). We’re prioritizing ourselves and taking the four-letter words “self-care” seriously.
So raise a glass of whatever’s your preference, to ourselves. To the end of year two of life as we now know it. To surviving (and missing those who did not), learning to thrive differently, and not being afraid of what’s next, but remembering to wash our hands, maintain some space, and take the masks along for life’s next carnival ride.