February tittle-tattle: Life of must
on’t you sometimes get that feeling that your life is just one big to-do list? February felt that way for me, like I was waking up with only one purpose – to tick off tasks from a never-ending list of musts.
I must sleep properly. I must run. I must take care of my kid. I must cook dinner. I must work. I must make time for my husband. I must talk to my mother everyday. I must blog. I must do strength training.
I must take care of my child, work, run, cook dinner, make time with my husband, talk to my mother, do strength training and blog, even without proper sleep, all in one day!
Did I already tell you how exhausting that was?
Of course this is all of my own doing. My life could have been easier had I not signed up for the 60 van Texel, right after the Kustmarathon Zeeland. (Tip: don’t sign up for another race until the runner’s high of a previous race had worn off). I could perhaps linger in bed longer than 5:45am, or sleep earlier than 8:30pm. I could use my weekends to write and blog and cuddle with my husband in the couch instead of suffering 5 hours of running with him.
Needless to say, my life lately is all about running. In February alone, I’ve totalled 205 kilometers spread over 3x/week of training. Also the 60 van Texel is 5 weeks away and that means a 45km and a 50km training would take over my Saturdays in March.
Tell me again, why do we take on such crazy endeavours? Obviously for personal gains, nothing philosophical or spiritual about it, a selfish undertaking to satisfy my need for achievements, to increase my perceived self worth, pushing myself to the point of breakdown to prove to myself that I can. Training for an ultramarathon is purely sadistic.
What’s funny is, I read an article this week that ultra-runners might be prone to cardiovascular arrest. Of course, I don’t fall into that category yet because I haven’t completed any ultra-marathon nor do I plan to take on dangerous ultra’s like the Oman Dessert Marathon or Marathon de Sables. But I can imagine that when you have a toddler, a full-time job and training for 100-miles, ultra-marathon can certainly kill you. I mean sometimes you have to train without sleep. That alone puts your life at risk.
As if that’s not enough, I added another weekly must-do in my agenda, a Pilates class. I tried it after missing my Yoga class and decided to abandon Yoga altogether and stick with Pilates. It’s the strength training that my body desperately want, which I’ve been putting off all the time because I’m lazy. When it’s paid, you’re sort of obliged to show up, if only to appease your wallet. And I like it too. Next month I’m expecting to lose my post-partum belly, have a six-pack abs and a well-toned body to brag on Instagram, all for €57 for five sessions.
What else happened in February? Nothing significant, which might be a good thing. You can even consider it as boring from a millennial’s point of view.
Boring is oftentimes good. I’m at this age where boring means peace, boring means having enough time to read several chapters of a book in the evening, or weekends without appointments, or days without somebody dying or getting a stroke.Boring means lunching with my mother in-law, enjoying the summer days in winter at the beach, or doing absolutely nothing (except stare at the ceiling)
Except for the kid getting sick again but that’s not really news these days. In fact I am expecting her to be infected with chicken pox any day this week, just another of those illnesses she brings home from daycare. She’s getting too much antibiotics that I might have to talk to the doctor whether that’s still good for such a young body.
Otherwise she’s bubbly chatterbox who’s beginning to string words into sentences, mostly short commands to manipulate her parents to bend to her whims, like hours watching Youtube or a bag of chocolates.
March will busier, more sadistic, more painful but there are enough reasons for celebrations. If I survive it, you’ll be reading another monthly update next month.