Time to Take Off My Grumpy Pants.

There's a BLANK where my THURSDAY should be.

Physically, this was a rough night. I had bad "spells" today and I'm not recovered from the spells on Tuesday. (They seem to come in series.) Although I managed to get a lot of housework started, I didn't finish any of it, and I didn't start either one of my workouts. Lightning closed the pool at night, and running in the morning is not an option when you're pre-syncopal, pre-migrainous (is that a word?) and having palpitations. I think my contacts and too much caffeine are to blame, but who knows for sure? And, just like it's hard to pinpoint the triggers for my "spells", it's hard for me to describe the way they feel. It starts with a combination of dizzy, achy, feverish and lighteaded; some times I have nausea, chest pains and weird little heartbeats - and then, if I'm lucky, I get the migraines and fatigue.

Oh, about the sleep thing. Ha. It would be funny if it wasn't so scary. For example: I set THREE alarms every morning (four on race morning). One at 4:45am (get in a full workout and have time to run with puppy), another at 5:30am (work out, but puppy only gets a quick walk), and 7am (get the puppy pooped and hurry to work). Somehow, I hit SNOOZE so many times that I slept through the 4:45am, the 5:30am, all the way until 7:24am - and here's the scary part - the only snoozes I ACTUALLY RECALL are the 5:30am - and then the OH SHIT at 7:24am. And then there's the guilt. The voices that ring through my head saying things like: 'you coulda pulled it together and done it, sick or not' and 'you're not that sick, you're just a slacker' .

Part of tonight's tasks: an exchange my ex-husband, with whom I'm becoming somewhat friendly again, but with whom had some necessary insurance-related business to handle. I mentioned my condition this week, that I've only done 4 or so workouts. You know what he says? He tells me he's impressed with how I continue to train.

Frankly, I'm tired of hearing this. My inner grouch says, what's so noble about it, anyway? Why is it such a good thing that I continue to put myself through this? What's the point? I might get too sick to even get to some of these races, so why even bother? And that's whay I tell him. Some times I think to myself: why even bother?

Then he says, "Here's a weird comparison for you. It's nowhere near your level but when I'm spinning and panting and my heart feels like its going to explode and my legs feel like they're about to fall off ill think for a split second 'what am I doing?? I could be sitting eating a bag of ketchup chips and drinking squirt,' but just like that the thought disappears. I think it's the idea that I want to be better than I was. I wanna use it before I lose it and a whole bunch of other things.I dunno, I think you've achieved A LOT with your half iron races. (He forgets I've only attempted one!) You've done more than what 90 percent of the people around you will ever do in their lives. I'm not saying rest on your laurels but take time to just maintain. Keep working out and eating well. I don't think you have anything to prove to others and more importantly to yourself. You're in an elite group already."

ELITE??!?!?!

MOI?!?!?!!?

What kind of elite is too slow to finish a HIM and sleeps through 20+ snoozes? But to him, I am . . . and to a lot of other people, I am . . . this person told me something to this effect one day. And that got me thinking about perception.

What can I do, every day, to change my perception?

You'd never know it to read my blogs, but I'm very positive and cheerful. It's just when I put on my grumpy pants that things get a little wonky. And that usually happens when I miss my workouts or don't feel good. Because, like Wubzy said, I want to be better. "I want to use it before I lose it, and a whole bunch of other things." When things start to get out of control . . . and, inevitably, they will . . . what can I do to take off my grumpy pants?

My little cat just climbed in bed with me and the puppy is playing in his crate (he got a "time out" for peeing in the house and he's only just now big enough to be allowed to sleep with me some nights). I have my house, job, life, Sherpa, and my fuzzy friends. My mission this week, should I chose to accept it or not, is to come up with some key phrases or actions that prompt me to think of those things, so I can take off my grumpy pants when I start to climb into them.

Maybe, eventually, I won't even need those pants any more.