How hard is winter training? I know some people love this time of year, and I do love the Christmas season, but not in relation to exercise. We can't complain that Jeremy only works at the daytime clinic 4 days a week, which leaves three days (on non-call weekends) of daylight hours in which to train. He has been getting up before 5 to get his workouts in, since he did sign up for an Ironman that takes place in 20-something weeks. That leaves a rare lunchtime or the after work (meaning DARK) hours for me. Not that I would trade training hours with him. Early mornings are not my thing. I used to try to get on the trainer while the toddler napped, but he has decided recently that naps just aren't for him anymore (and even back then, he could sense me riding and wake up after 30 minutes, getting mad that I was all sweaty). A few times the miracle of sleep has come upon us before 8pm on those non-napping days, for the first time in his life. But other times he likes to extend his waking hours so that when his internal alarm goes off at 7am, he has gotten a total of 9 hours of sleep in the last 24. He definitely gets it from his dad, because I have never been a naturally early riser, or one who happily survives on 30% less sleep than average. His latest sleeping habits include less frequent nursing, but if I'm not directly touching him, he wakes me up every hour or two to let me know. Every night. No, he doesn't "sleep through the night" yet, by any stretch, but I'm sure one of these days he will be in his own bed and I won't be alerted to this so frequently. I am really not complaining about this, since it's just part of having a little one, but rather I'm explaining why I just can't get up in the mornings to run, bike, or swim. Especially when it's cold and dark.
Since my decrease in mileage when I decided that the half marathon wasn't in the cards, I have slowly increased back up a bit, and even begun again the season of 24 where I left off, meaning I rode my trainer. I'm still going to the gym for barre or strength classes. I was thinking recently how ironic it is that I need to go to these classes when I have the knowledge to train myself perfectly well, and I have even been an instructor in many of these. It's just that I can't get the motivation part down. Or I just plain forget that it has been three weeks since I lifted a weight other than the toddler.
We planned to have Jeremy run the St. Jude half last weekend. On Thursday I texted our homestay, Nancy, to see what time we should get there on Saturday. Her reply was that, well, the race starts at 8am Saturday, so... For the previous six months I had believed the race to be on Sunday, and now travel would need to happen Friday night after work, with either a cranky toddler, a napping on the way toddler, and/or a toddler who wanted to stay up until midnight and play with Nancy's kittens. She pointed out that it was a long way to go for 13 miles, and it occurred to me that yes, it was. So we stayed home. I was sad to miss my friends and fun in Memphis, especially since I wasn't the one who had to worry about racing. But we will be back!
Every post needs a toddler picture, so here is even better: a video
clip of Hunter's first ride on Mystic. "Mommy, Daddy! I'm on the grass on Mystic
on the grass!" He's a natural equestrian. I'm not a natural videographer I'm afraid.