Well, after a rather bad week I simply didn’t know what the weekend was going to be like. V suggested I made a plan. So I told her I’d go swimming to train for the next triathlon.
So Saturday morning I drove to the pool, swam for half an hour, jumped out of the pool, ran to the car to dump my swimming gear and took off running around the Esplanade. Felt like it turned out to be a good workout. I pushed myself pretty hard. I can’t wait to do that again. I’ll be training for the next triathlon in 2 weeks, and I want to do better than I did the last time.
I tried to fill in the rest of the weekend with a few mindless tasks – pruned the rose bushes, vacuumed the inside of the car, washed the outside of the car, and baked a dozen banana muffins. I sure was a busy little bee.
Yet still, being a busy little bee, I had time to reflect on the past week. On how my own mind betrayed me. I don’t really know what to make of it now. I feel disillusioned, the same way I used to feel when I was hospitalised in the past. I’ve avoided it this time – probably because I am learning to accept the fact that I needed help, and that I was able to ask for it before it was too late. Is this necessarily a good thing though? To admit defeat and stop trying to control everything on my own?
I don’t know. I’m tired. I don't want to think anymore. I just want to drift by and let things be. Concentrate on my training for the tri.