are we there yet?

Yarg! Audit is Monday. Work is hell. Been naseaus all day both today and yesterday. If only the horde of audit monkeys would stay away from me.

Where's my bike? Need a ride. Or to run away. Car? Plane? Bike? Not picky - want out of the stress. I'm dying for a road trip. Anywhere.

Crisis or Control?

F has been talking about me to co-workers and THEIR take on my "extreme" racing passion that has erupted in the last year is that I'm having a midlife crisis.

I clarified: I race, I ride, and I run so I don't KILL anyone. My first "official" race since college was the Susan G Komen 5 K last year. That freaking rocked. I think I blogged it. But overtaking other runners was such a high I felt like I was chasing down prey; yeah, I'm only a little competitive. So looking for more races started as a way to keep the weight off because I didn't want to backslide and wake up 200lb again. nononononono!

I needs me goals or I slug around the place.

However, now I'm addicted to training because it releases the stress build up and eases off the urge to strangle the living shit out of stupid people. And there are soooo many stuuuuupid people. I also like having a tinsy bit of control in my life and my fitness time is me being in charge of me taking care of me doing something I like doing. It's all about me, baby! Cuz the rest of the time it definitely is NOT!

I've also discovered the pure addictive physical and mental joy of setting out to run 5 miles or bike for 3 hrs and then actually doing it. Doing more of it is just "proof of gain". I was athletic in college, then slowly got fat and lost my ability to play water polo, run, bike, karate, SCA fight, etc. I have worked like a dog and I'm probably not as physically fit as I was in my early 20s, but I'm close AND I have a mental toughness now that I didn't have then. Dang if I'm not going to appreciate it and use the freaking hell out of it before my body decides I need to restrict myself to water aerobics.

In my own head, I'm pretty sure the racing is about control and enpowerment and enjoying physical strength again. And, with my crazy self in mind, a dash of "now this is what the OCD has latched onto".

But if people want to chalk it up to mid-life crisis, that's cool. I'm about the right age for it. Where's my sports car? and line of dancing boys? my trips to the Carribean? Bring me Roman Cokes and Fast Cars and Chip n' Dales Hotties! (errr... j/k. you know this, yes?)