the day off

sometimes you just don't feel like it.

you're an athlete. but you don't feel like it.

you're a triathlete. but you don't feel like it.

you're an Ironman. but you don't feel like it.

sometimes you just don't feel like it. the pre-dawn still-dark wake-up alarm. the not-even-yet-morning-light workout. the checking of the daily, weekly, monthly, seasonal, even annual training schedule. the monitoring of caloric intake and nutritional proportion and periodic meal distribution. the mid-day afternoon evening workout fit wherever you can find it. the tracking of heart rate and watts and revolutions and distance and time and effort and eating and sleeping and resting and working and studying and assessing and measuring and testing and going to bed and waking up and starting all over again to repeat it all again again again again.

never mind the soreness. the fatigue. the numbness. the monotony. the suffering. the dread.

sometimes you just don't feel like it.

what you feel like is just turning pushing slapping throwing (even ignoring) the alarm. missing skipping avoiding (even not thinking about) the workout. living (yes, even living) without the schedule. with nothing else.

what you feel like is just sleeping. and eating. and lying in bed. and staring at the ceiling. and nothing else.

what you feel like is curling up, in a corner, under a blanket, with a book, or the tv. or nothing else.

what you feel like is nothing at all.

that's the time you know you're not yourself. athlete triathlete Ironman. body mind soul. person. human. you.

that's the time you need to find yourself. whatever wherever however. time space energy. person. human. you.

that's the time you stop.

and do the one thing you should do:

take the day off.

and be.

person. human. you.