A Little Bit of Crazy

The off season is a funny thing.  We look forward to it all year, dreaming of a Saturday morning spent in bed with a cup of coffee or a Sunday afternoon drinking a beer on the couch in front of the football game.  However, when those long awaited weeks off are finally upon us we turn into twitching fools: counting the days until base season is upon us and guiltily sneaking in workouts like kids sneaking a peak at the presents hidden in Mom’s closet as they count the days until Christmas.

Actual time to relax? Who would enjoy that?

My season ended a bit over a month ago and I enjoyed the break for all of four days.  On day five, however, I woke up feeling like a sluggish, cranky blob.  My poor parents spent the next week and a half avoiding proverbial land mines as I had angry and/or tearful outbursts at the mere mention of training.  (I did, however, console myself with some quality relaxation and time with family/friends – something that I really had been missing).  I think it’s fair to say that most people look at my inability to relax as a bit obsessive or overly Type A; but from where I’m sitting it’s a little different. 

Blessing of the off-season: Hiking with high school cross country buddy, Teagan

And hiking with my lovely cousin, Jacqueline

Off season training? Running with some matadors from a pesky bull sounds sufficient.

Outside of ‘literally’ and ‘actually’ I am of the belief that ‘passion’ is one of the most improperly used and overused words in the English language.  We say we are passionate about a whole slew of hobbies, jobs, sports teams, and products when what we really mean is we enjoy those things.  Passion, I feel, should be designated for something deeper, something that comes with a little crazy.

While pursuing a degree and career in opera, I touted myself as being passionate about music and performance.  However, after graduating, I decided to take a few months off of singing as I healed from the stress and emotional wounds my pursuit had recently inflicted.  Months turned into years as I realized I didn’t miss either the anxiety or the thrill of performing in the slightest and realized a career change was in order.  (For more on this, check out previous post “Beginnings” from Oct 2012).

I dressed a little differently in my singer days (2009)

As I faced my startling lack of passion, I kept thinking back to a good friend from college who was filled with the stuff: Maxx Popp.  Maxx is a drummer.  If you were to enter the music building at North Central College, nine times out of ten, Maxx would be there.  Finally, one day I asked him how much he practiced each day, he shrugged and told me about five or six hours (outside of general lessons and rehearsal times) as though it was nothing.  What’s more, is that wasn’t Maxx’s only drum time; when not in a rehearsal room, Maxx was most likely to be found drumming at home, jamming with other musicians, or listening to and studying music.  When he wasn’t actually drumming, his hands would twitch and you knew he was going through solos in his mind.  I shudder to think what would happen to that poor kid if he suddenly couldn’t drum.  Now THAT is passion. 

Maxx NOT drumming circa 2008

As a triathlete, I’ve grown to think it normal to train 25 hours a week (well, during base at least) and to then spend my free time reading or thinking about it.  I somehow think nothing of fitting in two hours of training before leaving for work at 8 am and then a few more when I get home at six though I know it sounds a bit absurd to tri muggles.  I struggle not with keeping a training regiment but with letting it go for a while. 

I think it’s safe to say I’ve found that elusive passion they speak of and it’s a beautiful thing.  My determination comes with a little crazy, probably more than a little, but it has brought me great joy.  My heart goes out to those who have not yet found their obsession or who have allowed themselves to be fooled with excuses or the easy way out.  I tell you, spending five hours training on a Saturday sure beats the heck out of five hours watching marathons of “Project Runway.”  My advice?  You won’t know your passion until you stumble upon it, so get out there and try new things!  It doesn’t matter in the slightest how old you are, I have a client who found a passion for running in his sixties and another who discovered she loved piano in her seventies.  Whether it is baking, scrapbooking, art, music, sport, or any number of things: once you find your life’s love, go after it with fearlessness and a bit of unbridled fearlessness because that is where happiness lies.

Happy to be back to training, no matter the weather!

For more on the off-season and actually dealing with it, check out MP Multisport’s (my coach’s) awesome blog “Last Race of the Season? Now What!?” at http://www.mpmultisport.com/1/post/2013/09/last-race-of-the-season-now-what.html