The countdown, that is.
10 days. 10 teeny, tiny days.
And it's been a crazy week. Ok, it's been a crazy 6 months, but the past 2 weeks have been ridiculous. A week ago, I realized that I was editing a cheering guide and compiling a participant list for a race that I'm not even doing...which...if I do say so myself, turned into 64 pages of awesomeness. I haven't been able to completely reign in Ed's stream of consciousness writing style yet, but there are only so many hours in the day, and I'm no miracle worker. But beyond that, I've taken the lead on planning our work Holiday Party. Which has made me want to add "Cat Wrangler" to my job description, if not just completely replacing my job title with that heading. Oh yeah...and I'm still working full time, training for an Ironman, and doing an added amount of stretching/strength training/PT.
As if that weren't enough to make a person go insane, or just pass out with exhaustion...something was...off. And had been for a while...about 4 weeks to be exact. If you'll recall, that's the time where I got hurt, and couldn't work out as much. For a while, I thought that was the cause. I was tired all the time, I was in a bad mood, or if I wasn't in a bad mood, I just didn't feel like myself. I didn't feel like doing anything. There were days were just laying on the couch seemed like the only thing my body was physically capable of doing.
Some might say that such a break was well warranted. And they would probably be right. But it just wasn't...me.
3 days ago, I had a breaking point. On Sunday, I didn't do anything. I was a hermit, and I laid on the couch and did absolutely nothing all day long. On Monday, I knew I hadn't slept well the night before (we'll get to that in a bit) but I was exhausted all day long. Extremely exhausted. To the point where I was neurotically searching online for possible causes for such extreme fatigue. Yes, it's also slightly hypochondria-ish. But something was wrong. I went home Monday evening, and again, did nothing. I laid on the couch for about an hour, and then went to bed. At 6:30pm. 10 and a half hours later, I wake up, and I have an epiphany. In all of my research, one of the causes always listed was a reaction to medicine. Do we remember what also happened a month ago? I got put on new asthma medicine. So I look up possible side effects. DING DING DING!!! We have a winner. Possible side effects: Adrenal Fatigue, Extreme tiredness, depression. It wasn't a medicine I was supposed to be on for a long period of time, just long enough to get my lungs opened up, so I immediately stopped taking the medicine. And guess what...immediately I started feeling better. So now, 3 days post medicine, things are starting to feel normal again. In fact, yesterday afternoon, I was hyper. And I'd only had 2 cups of coffee yesterday. And I was hyper. It was a wonderful feeling. I'm still tired, but back to a much more normal level of tiredness. And I can function, which is...you know...kind of important :)
After I stopped taking the meds, and went back to normal human being-ish-ness, I actually had a conversation about what's been going on with me, and my friends are so nice and put up with me. We even talked about some of my reactions lately. And they even noticed changes in my personality with how I reacted to a few things. Not that my reaction was abnormal, but how...extreme...was abnormal. So, hopefully all of that has now stopped, and the normal, happy, hyperactive, refusing to lay on the couch me has returned.
Now it's time to talk about freaking out.
History tells us that I have horrible race jitters. I get nervous, I get cranky, and I'm not pleasant to deal with. But I've never had nightmares before. Sunday evening saw a panic attack where I was concerned about not making the swim cut off. Tuesday morning, I did some math, my *favorite* thing to do, and I'm more calm. I now know that even if I swim my slowest average pace, I'll beat the swim cut off, with time to spare. Barring any other unforeseen misadventure. So, I was much more calm.
Last night, or rather, 1:30am, I woke up because there was some weird, random, very loud ringing going on around my apartment. I have no idea what it was, but it sounded like some type of alarm. It kept me up for a while, and somehow I managed to drift back to sleep. But the craziness brought about a very strange...dream...nightmare...whatever you want to call it. The alarm (in my dream) prompted me to leave my apartment, and when I got back to my apartment, the Building Engineer in my building was in my apartment, had my bed out in the hallway, and was cleaning up in my apartment. Confused about why my bed was in the hallway, I go in, and ask what happened. Apparently, right after I left, the radiator in my apartment blew up, wreaking havoc in my apartment. And it broke Cedric (my bike) in half. I was distraught. My bike is getting picked up tomorrow...what am I to do??? The Building Engineer tells me not to worry, I have time tomorrow to go get a new bike. I'm not sure who was paying for the bike, or where I was going, but it could happen. Then I was distraught that I would have to race IMAZ on a brand new bike. Oh no!
The dream basically ended there. Or, at least, that part of the dream. My brother and sis-in-law, I'm sure, will be happy to hear that the rest of the dream was about visiting them...as they're about to have twins. And that's not true (to my knowledge).
So, anyway...we have the swim freak out covered. We now have the bike freak out covered. I'm just wondering what my convoluted brain is going to come up with to make me freak out about the run. I've never freaked out about running before, so this could potentially be quite hilarious.
And, despite the fright that Cedric's demise could potentially bring about, my dream has actually amused me. I've been laughing about it all morning. It's just such a ridiculous prospect, that you just have to laugh.
So, to that, I say...bring it on, baby.
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