I know some of you will find this hard to believe, but sometimes the Army life is frustrating.
I know, right!?
Not only is there war, and injury, and lack of family time, but there’s also the annoying habit the Army has of screwing with my plans.
The next person to say “we plan, God laughs” (in that Fran Drescher falsetto that makes baby seals weep) is going to get the most severe eye roll I can muster. And possibly a smack on the face. With a spatula.
Because my coach is awesome and has telepathy (or ninja spies…or has ties to the NSA) this happens to be a recovery week on my training calendar. I get to run without a Garmin, have rest days, and ride my bike. This change in my schedule is very welcome, indeed, as I’ve been logging more miles and workout hours than I’ve ever done before. And all without injury,
Coach has kept me injury free while stretching my body to its limits. When I think my legs are shot, I find I can ride my bike up crazy-steep hills. When I think my arms will fall off, I can do another set of preacher curls. These workouts are changing my long-held conceptions about my body. I’m strong! Who knew?
So. This is me…rolling with all the changes. I’m going to let the Army build my faith that The Lord will provide. I’m going to let Coach build my faith in my athleticism. …but first, I’m gonna have some chocolate milk and watch Sherlock and Doctor Who reruns.
…because BBC is screwing with my emotions. Honestly, BBC needs a support group in between seasons…