1, 250. The number of minutes my booty was seated on my sattle this month. One month. It's exciting to think about, as I am filling out the workout schedule for the upcoming month, that even though I will be doing 140 miles in the Ironman, I've already started putting in my "Miles to IMOO". For the most part I can't complain, month one went along swimmingly....or maybe I should have made a bike reference, since the focus was a 'bike block'. But this isn't really going to be focused on my workouts, I've done a lot of that in my other posts. Rather I felt the need to take a step back and kind of ramble about a thought that crossed my mind the other day. While scrambling around my apartment trying to cram all of my work stuff into my backpack, pack my gym bag (why can I never find one of my gym shoes?!), half dressed for work (please don't forget to put a shirt on before you walk out!) do my hair, and drink my coffee while it's still warm (yea right!) I just rolled with the resistance that this was going to have a "case of the Mondays" on a Tuesday.
By now I know better than to pack things the morning of, yet it still happens. By the time I'm grabbing my keys and locking my door I take a quick glance around, did I turn off my hair straightener and coffee pot? And oh dear gawd, my place looks like a tornado went through it! I guess I'll have to clean that up later....maybe....when am I going to do that? In the car ride to work I tried to think up my 'to-do' list for the day and I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. My mind was still on my apartment and how much of a mess it was. In the one month of triathlon training I realized that there is a reason I don't have a roommate. Actually there are many reasons:
1) My life expectancy would drop instantaneously because of the wild schedule that I follow. Getting up at 4am and going to bed by 9pm is not something someone could live with harmoniously. There would probably be a lot of passive-aggressive noise making to signify how annoyed the other one is with you for being awake/asleep.
2) Laundry. I have to do more loads of laundry a week than anyone I know. And it's almost always all workout clothes. But before the clothes make it to the washer they sit everywhere; on the floor, in the sing, handing over the tub, and if they aren't stinky and wet, there's a 5% chance they will actually make it into a dirty laundry basket.
3) My fortress of solitude would not be so solitary. I'd have to realize that I was sharing my apartment with someone and that yelling out Lady Gaga lyrics at the top of my lungs is not really being considerate of the other person. And the loud clanky noise the trainer makes is enough to drive anyone up a wall. But the reality is that I would still go ahead and do all of this anyways because I need to get the workout in. I'd probably find myself with many of unexpected flat tires from spite.
5) And if someone were able to see past all of this and decide I wasn't totally bat-shit crazy, my diet would probably get them. I go through more almond milk, peanut butter, and edamame than any one person really every should. But that's not the worst of it. I'm also a fan of protein shakes, they are delicious and help with recovery but washing them out right away? Ain't nobody got time for that! Dishes aren't usually a priority so the obsessive-compulsive cleaning freak would have a field day with me.