Lost

I want to put a little disclaimer before posting this. I generally try not to be a complainer and hope this doesn't come off that way, this is just honestly where I'm at in my triathlon journey and I want to be honest about it and hope that writing about it will help in some way. 

I feel like I’ve spent a lot of time starting and restarting this post over the past few weeks. In terms of life, in general, things are going great. The holidays were awesome, I went on a great vacation with one of my best friends, spent time with family, and got to see lots of my favorite people at one point or another. Work is good, insanely busy, but really good. My friends and family are great! Spending time with them makes me so happy. Of course, my sweet boy, Dooley is awesome, and he spent much of his Christmas break romping around with my brother's new golden retriever puppy, Hank.

Dooley and I spent the two weeks before Christmas taking care of this little booger.

But then there’s triathlon. Ironman was a little less than two months ago, but it seems like a lifetime ago. How is that possible?

I feel like so much has changed since then, especially with my ankle injury. My racing plans for next year are gone and along with them went my motivation to train. I feel like I came out of Ironman and all the training that entails a much stronger, more dedicated person than I was when I started. But now I feel lost.

My coach and I developed a plan to get me in the best shape possible for surgery, and until the holidays, I would say I was about 85% on track. And then I left for vacation and did some running and hiking, but that’s about it. It’s not the original plan, the plan that lit a fire in my gut. So I don’t have the same motivation to do it. I don’t have that thing inside me that motivated me to get up early or stay up late and do my workouts during Ironman training. Honestly, I just don’t care enough right now. I hate that. I want to care, but I don’t. And again I feel lost.

I also really want to figure out my racing schedule for next year. Things are postponed but the year is not a total loss. I’ve had to decide if I want to do a late season Ironman or maybe do a later season half and run the NYC marathon. Honestly, I can’t decide. I don’t know. Because what I want to do is Oceanside and Louisville and Patriot’s Half in MA. That’s what I want to do. The other options are plan B and I’m not all that fond of plan B so in my crazy mind, plan B seems pointless. I guess plan A was a bitter harder to let go of than I originally imagined.

This indifference, it isn’t me. I always know what I want and when I want it. I’m not afraid to go after it, and I’m generally relentless in my pursuit. But that fire, it’s gone. Quite possibly because for one of the first times in a long time, I can’t have what I want when I want it. No matter how hard I work or how much I try, I can’t have it. And that sucks.

In the face of all of these New Year’s resolutions and 2013 roundups I'm reading, I find myself in a completely different state of mind than most people. While I’m insanely proud of the things I accomplished in 2013, I just can’t seem to get excited about 2014. I will, eventually, I truly believe it. But I’m dedicating January to finding my fire. I’m dedicating January to not feeling so lost.  To finding the fighter that I was just two short months ago. This month I will find the thing that drives me to get out of bed for the early workouts and to get home late and still get on the trainer. I’ll have my surgery, and I’ll start my road to recovery. Hopefully somewhere along the way, I’ll find that little spark within me that won’t let me give up and hopefully with time and lots of hard work that spark will build into the fire that fuels me. I want to fight for my goals again.

I figured I couldn't go wrong by ending this somewhat emo post with a picture of my family's dogs. We are using this as part of our firm Christmas card for next year!

Until then, I’ll spend my January not making lofty goals for my entire year, but instead being silent and climbing my way out of this funk, hoping and praying that spark returns.