A has been taking so much time off from work lately, to support my consultations and appointments. It’s the type of thing that shouldn’t need to happen, given that I’m a full-fledged stay and home mom and a full-grown women of not-so-independent-means-which-I-could-change-but-at-the-sacrifice-of-bean. Yet he still chauffeurs me with no thought for himself.
Seeing him so often brightens all of our spirits. As soon as the door opens, boom beelines to the door with e right behind her, both of them ecstatic to be greeting their poppa. Today they had four opportunities to do so. No, the day was free of appointments, but A had done all he could at work and decided to come home a few hours early. Not ten minutes after his arrival, just at the end of the welcoming committee’s performance, he received a call back into work: the project that has been plaguing him since November was finally approved, and he rushed back in to sign it off. He came home again, and then another call! The head coaches wanted to meet to go over A’s programming for the upcoming week. He rocked it. The box is going to have a grand old time. Home and then out again, to grab some ingredients from the grocery store. What they were, I can’t hardly remember. And finally home.
And what about little old me? Sad to say, the polar bear still guards me in my little cramped cave. No, I’ve not lifted for the past week. I feel less, spiritually, mentally, and physically. I know I am, too. Why is it so hard to do the think I love most doing?
We are looking for a squat rack, or at least a place to build one. Right now, still banned from ballistic lifts, I am limited to deads. Dead are fine, but #115 (the only amount of weight we have) gets a bit dull. Better dull than diminished, and all of these are only excuses. I’m not the person to make excuses. I can hardly recognize who I am without hard work; my hard work is to be done in the gym now, and that is what I lack. I can only imagine the welcoming committee I’ll give myself once lifting is more normal than not lifting: once lifting fills this hole inside. A wise friend once said it is better to be able to relive the victories, the progress, than to rail at what I’ve lost. I’m finally ready to do just this; and with that bit of forgiveness, I believe I’m finally free to begin again. So, hello bar, hello weights, hello me.