I’ve always taken pride in being a tough kid.  Heck I was groomed to be a tough kid.  It’s something I’ve come to rely on as an athlete to make up for my lack of experience, skill, and occasionally talent.  It’s been my strength. ….but recently I’ve been feeling weak.  Sure I’ve been tired, my legs hurt, my mind hurts.  I sleep…alot.  and I’m no napper.

Its been a battle.  I need to remember to thrive on the tough times.  I need to remember that I love when training is hard and demanding, to make the workouts others hate the ones I live for.

I woke up this morning to the sound of pouring rain.  It was cold and dark and I knew it was going to be a rough morning.  I forgot my boots outside last night…can you say soggy?  Before breakfast I already had a case of the grouchy-meanies.  Bad news.

I slipped into the puddle that waited for me in my ski boots.  Starting the workout drenched before I even made it outside. …Ugh!  It was cold.  So cold I couldn’t feel my hands shooting, I guess its never too late to prepare for winter…

On my way back to the training center I opted to run on the trails past the John Brown Farm splashing through puddles as I went along.  No longer thinking about “shin flexion” or “trigger squeeze” or even how cold I was…instead I thought about mud.  Lots of people hate mud.  Its squishy.  Its dirty.  Its messy.  but I think its awesome.  I love mud.  I love biking through it and having my tires spray it everywhere until I’m so caked in mud its like a second skin.  I love running through it and coming back to the training center looking a mess with my legs and back just covered in the stuff.  I’m clumsy and occasionally slip and fall in the stuff and I laugh and wipe the mud from my hands down the front of my legs or across my face.  Happy as a pig.

I’m passionate about the ugly.  I’m best friends with pain.  I want to dig deep…but I’m tired.  I’ve misplaced my toughness and the only thing that sounds good right now is sleep.