Dealing with Disappointment

not a pretty title.
not a pretty topic.
not your standard blog format.

last weekend was my first big race of the year
how do you explain
exactly
 what that means
to someone who does not spend 15 hours a week preparing for something?
on top of work
on top of marriage
on top of fatherhood
on top of life
sometimes instead of life

how many hours have i spent in the basement on the fucking trainer?
how many of those hours could i have spent playing with my daughter instead?
how many hours could i have been home earlier?
how many hours could i have made my spouse happy?
how many hours i could have done better at work?
how many hours did i choose to swim, bike and run instead of living a normal life?
and why? and for whom? for what?

last weekend, things did not turn out the way i planned
or hoped...

last weekend, when it came down to it, i was flat, i had no oomph,
i sucked....

last weekend, when it got down to it, nothing happened the way it should have,
life happened...

i guess.

expectation is the mother of disappointment.

it takes,
a lot
to get to a 70.3 race,
for a married person
with a profession
and children.

it is amazing
to even finish
so why do i feel unhappy
for not finishing faster?

5:25 is not a number that makes me feel good.
5:00 makes me feel ok, on a tough course like that.
i am getting old, maybe i am not what i used to be,
maybe i am exactly what i used to be,
maybe i will always suck
maybe i will never be great at anything
even a sport that demands mediocrity in three sports as its gold
i am a golden (aged) under-achiever
(wait, who does a half ironman, drives 6 hours home, then goes to work the next day like nothing happened) under-achievement is a relative concept.

how do i cope with a "bad day"
after months of training and preparation
i plan another fucking race, of course
and soon.
i need to make up for my bad day. i need to prove that it wasn't fitness that held me back.
i need to try out my "new" relaxed mentality. i need to show that if i just sit back and enjoy
this narcissistic douchebag of a sport then i will do great.
as in training...so in life. ya.

and then, there is a birthday party
to go to
and i can't race again
without pissing everyone off
and for what?
and why?
and for whom?

so i have to be big.
i have to be realistic.
i have to accept that a shit day is just that, a shit day
it happens.
and like the weather, it cannot always be predicted.
sometimes it rains on your picnic.
and that is that.
life is not always fair.
it is soggy and cold, sometimes.

the sun does not always shine.

so, i wait for next time.
so, i have to get back to training without the benefit of a great result
to motivate
so, i need to accept that i sacrificed time, put everyone out, and  for no real reason
no payout
no narcissistic gratification
no fun (really)
no glory
i mean how much fun is running slowly, in oppressive heat, on tired legs and feeling like shit???

why do i still love this sport
which denies me
my due?

expectation is the mother of pain

suffering is the first noble truth

judgment of experience is the child of desire

freedom from desire

is the path to enlightenment

this is not an answer

but it is a solution

someone

once

told

me

keep

on

keepin'