I hate this winter. I hate the snow. I hate the cold. I hate the snow days. I hate 2 hour school delays.
Hate it. Hate it. Hate it.
I remember having wonderful runs last winter. My shoes crunching in the snow. My hair covered in snow flakes. The bliss of being out in the cold and not feeling it anymore. The quiet. Only the sound of my footfalls and breath.
But not this year.
Bitter cold. Icy roads. Dark, dark, dark mornings. The knowledge that I won't ever have to do a triathlon in the middle of a polar vortex, and the overwhelming compulsion to roll over and go back to sleep. I've caved over and over this winter. I've skipped spinning. I'm hardly getting my runs in.
And now I only have 113 days left. Just over 16 weeks to train.
I made a big public proclamation about doing a 1/2 Iron distance Triathlon 2 months ago. I did that so that I would follow through. It was a big goal. A big scary goal. Something that I really want, but honestly feel is beyond me.
And now this horrible, nasty, bitter, dark, cold winter is the little voice in my head confirming that I can't. It's an enabler to my fear and laziness.
The little voice on the other side of my head is telling me I still have 16 weeks. I can do this. I can be ready. After all...I only plan on finishing. I'm not planning on winning.
Big scary goal vs. Cold dark winter
You can do this vs. No you can't