season of sadness

Yesterday I said to Mr. Scandinavian Mullet "Hey, I did a lot better than I thought at my race in July." And he said "ABSOLUTELY! You did amazing, considering what you were going through, and your run was incredible!" Trust me when I say I loved hearing that from him, but my point is I realized it and said it aloud to another human. 

That race, like the Colorado Triathlon in June, was a glorious piercing blip of joy during a very dark period of Death and Destruction. I am no different from any athlete who feels a bit lost and let down after The Big Event is finished - those weeks or months when you don't know whether to sleep in to recover or go for a 40-mile hill ride, whether you want to do the intervals at track or if you should even bother putting on the running shoes in the first place. And then your Garmin tells you you are "Detraining" - whatever that new word is, you're well aware you are the definition of it. And then, your sister says on the phone that she's cleaning out Grandma's house, the realtor wants to list it before fall. 

October 2021, random road
trip to Grandma's house.

Wait, we have a realtor? Does Mom know you're doing this? 

Yes. We have a realtor. We have photos. We have a listing and we have offers. Several offers. Help me with the offers. Why do the sellers get passed all of the info about all of the buyers, can't the realtor just narrow it down to the good candidates, and send us those without all the commentary? This one sent a letter. Her family is in the neighborhood. She loves the old phone and pencil sharpener in the basement. [I want a pencil sharpener in MY basement.] The house reminds her of her grandparents' house and she would love to live in it. I can hear Grandma: Oh, honey, you can have it, just take good care of it. 

The close is set for so close, there's no way I can go. You never think the last time you went somewhere will be THE LAST TIME you went there. And then your mom says she'll pay for the plane ticket. Oh. Hello Universe, smacking me upside the head to say of course you're going, she needs support. I can pay for the ticket, it's only $200, this is important and it is no sweat to shift things around so I can be there for this very, very sad thing. 

And I am sad. Very, very sad. I'm going to be sad NO MATTER WHAT, whether I stay here in CO or I go to help pack up the last of my Grandma's things with my mom, in the place that's been one of my home bases for over 45 years. Also trust me when I say that I know, if I'm sad about this impending chore, my mom is at least doubly so, since it was her home base for almost 70 years. And I hate that my mom is sad. This has been a hard, hard couple weeks of trying to find joy in anything. I've been...

Calling friends. 

Journaling. 

Getting back into regular workouts. 

Giving my mentoring everything I've got. 

Reading. 

Walking my dogs. 

Cleaning and organizing my house. 

Getting enough rest. 

Turning off the news. 

Turning on music I love.

Volunteering. 

Tracking all my macros and joining Halloween Health Challenges. 

Going to yoga. 

Writing my gratitude lists each day.

Some of it temporarily lifts my mood, some does not, but I'm trying out healthy ways to cope with the overarching gloom. And I have to say, I'm super happy it's the beginning of fall because the doggy walks are so very pretty. Sunlight in September is spectacular, all times of the day.

What I haven't been doing is overeating, overdrinking, oversugaring... and this is a win. I'm still working toward being a better triathlete. Win. Working toward being a better human, win, and especially a human who is more kind to ME. One who values themself and their accomplishments, and wants to keep growing and doing better. BIG WIN. 

I'm turning a corner. So many corners.