The tender mercy of time gone by is the only relief for my silly schoolgirl heart. I am not meant to be with anyone right now. I am truly in need of a love affair with myself. For some time I have been cultivating a regimen, which must flex in response to my ever changing schedule, but always ultimately moving forward in my many disciplines. Always progress.
Here I am halfway around the world. I've done the commute to London twice, and there is a sense of deja vu, only this is bigger and better. With fondness I recall the early mornings (before six am) that I would drive into the city, then take the T to the PNC YMCA in downtown Pittsburgh. Doing a triathlon sprint distance at the gym before 8am was a fun challenge. Now I cross an ocean to get to work on some days. Racing across congested cities and through airport and train stations is my new set of obstacles. Not only will I endure, but I will also do it fast. I cannot deny sweating through much of the traveling today. I am serious about the racing business.
Similar to triathlons, there is another aspect to it, which involves not being aggressive. It happened one day last year that I was racing up from the underground T station downtown. I found myself rushing around a mother and son, and felt very unchivalrous afterward. The mother yielded and I overheard the boy asking her - in response to her pulling him out of my way (wince) - about "the guy with all of the bags." It was something that stayed with me. Ever since then I have attempted to lace my race mentality with a thread of patience and temperance. I will not take innocents out in my pursuit of getting home a few minutes faster.
I will however, assert myself in the leagues of suits gushing through the veins of public transportation. I will race to the front. I will break through the openings in the throngs of travellers (today I waited to check my bag in a queue of probably 250 people). Then I will find, like tonight, that my shoulders sag at the end of it. I lost my spring in the last 20 minutes or so, but then I realised it is okay. I'm not in England anymore. I don't have to run. I'm at home, in my new city. Then I think how weird that feels and sounds while the words are still forming in my head.
This is what I'm doing right now. I am convinced that I moved to Holland to learn how to slow down and relax. I need a balance for this intense fire that burns within. Alas. Now it is 1:15 am, and I intend to be at the gym by 6:30 before my commute to Utrecht. I'm not even packed. I guess that's enough of this for now. Thank you, goodnight.
