I like to think that I live a life of moderation,but I am so, so wrong.
What I really live is a life of extremes that are not necessarily related to one another at all.
The other day I was described by a self-proclaimed fence-rider as a fence-rider.
Yes, I agreed. I am.
Six months ago I was up by 5:45 most days, starting with a workout, moving into teaching a couple of classes, and then finishing the day off with a shift at the restaurant.
Post burnout, and post classes-getting-cancelled, I'm working nine to ten shifts a week at the restaurant and getting up at ten on an early day.
Forget the workouts.
Tonight I had a table I've had before. Not super-regulars, but every-now-and-then-on-a-Saturday-nighters. The woman mentioned that she worked with FURS, and I told her that as a TRIgirl, I had been involved with them somewhat when they were our sponsored charity. Her husband perked up at this, telling me that he has been doing tris for the past few years. We got into a more involved discussion...
I spoke flippantly about my Ironman and next-week marathon and the ensuing lack of anything whatsoever. He talked up the Shady Grove Sprint. I rolled my eyes internally. This is the girl who would actually rather swim 2.4 miles in the gulf than 300 meters in a suffocating pool. He admired my Ironman finish. I admired his sticktoitiveness with the sprints.
He started asking me about Ironman, and I spilled details. He said, "I see the twinkle in your eye," and I started to tear up. Yeah, y'all expect that of me. I promised him he'd see me there, though most likely not as a participant. I still covet the cheerleader position.
I had a job interview on Thursday, which I thought promising. During my meeting with several of the team members at the company, I was asked, "Given your experience with teaching and the restaurants, do you think you would be happy in an office environment?"
I answered positively then, but that question is haunting me. I do like the open water better than the pool.