Time, you ain't no friend of mine

'Locating satellites' ...errrr, come on Garmin...I ain't got time for this!!

34 weeks to Ironman Louisville.

It's always astonishing to me how simply changing the way something is said or written can change your entire perception of it. Tell me the race is in 8 months? That's far to me...I got loads of time! Tell me it's in 34 weeks? EYES POPPING OUT OF MY HEAD HOLY GUAC WHATTT.

When viewing impending events in increments of weeks ...I tend to panic a little. It seems reduced to such a short amount of time...even though I know how many months 34 weeks amounts to. In actuality, it is pretty damn distant (I mean...October is forever from now).

Time is the most precious currency we have. I'm a woman of efficiency and speed. I like to get sh*t done (properly, of course). I don't like to dilly dally or have coffee break room chats (unless they involve cat memes).

I can't stand slow walkers or escalator hoggers (stay to the right!). I'm allergic to the notion of hour-long waits at restaurants. And I don't like to lounge in bed in the morning.

I'm the type that'd rather pay the extra two bucks for my own Uber than wait on an Uber pool.

....READ: Life is limited. My time is the only thing I can't buy more of.

My tenth grade mythology teacher was a prolific orator. I couldn't wait for his class every day. His stories were those of the Gods creating nature and civilization, creating the world, with equal parts good and evil. (Well, in all seriousness the stories seemingly always favored evil...I don't know what that says about our society?!?!) I always arrived early, anxious for the narrative of the day. Some others, however, straggled in far past the bell.

One day, my teacher had something to say about it that perfectly summates my feelings on time. He said, annoyed (and rightfully so), "when you arrive in Heaven, if you go to Heaven, God's not going to say 'Oh you wasted 10,000 hours of your life, here are those hours back, go live them.' No, you don't get that time back. So please don't waste mine."

I may not remember everything about the Greek and Norse deities, but that line stuck with me.

This past week, and weekend, really tested my patience. And my theory on time.

I had committed to too much. I felt was slipping. I didn't have enough time for everything. For everyone.

Saturday is when everything hit the proverbial fan for me. I had to take care of my friend's dog, who for the life of me would not go to the bathroom. After she finally went (on my floor) I went off to run errands in the AM. And then actually run...12 miles. It wouldn't take me too long normally, but Coach wanted me to go slow. As in...averaging 8:45 slow.

This is a new concept for me. This whole "recovery" long run business. But I did it. It was painful (mentally, not physically) to go so slow. I could have used a jockey. (Are there such things are running jockeys?) But again, the whole time thing. I was now rushing back to the house to feed and walk the dog again before heading out to give a tour of CNN to my friend and her visiting parents, and then go to dinner.

On the way to CNN, sirens started to ring and everything came to a halt for me. I was being pulled over. Third time ever in my life. Apparently I had rolled through a stop sign. I hadn't even noticed. It was really sobering for me. I apologized and acknowledged I was in the wrong. I didn't even fight it.

I realized that I was more or less rolling through everything in life. I hadn't really stopped to be present in anything lately. Even during that one slow run, I was thinking about what I had to do next.

In between all of this, a dear friend of mine was reaching out for help, and I simply didn't have the time to respond. I failed her.

I arrived at CNN and gave them the tour. Which went longer than planned...and we fell behind schedule. By the time we got over to the restaurant, the wait was a dreaded hour. I started having mental hives. I couldn't take it. If I had just done one less thing that day. If I had stopped at the stop sign. If I wasn't rushing around. All of this could have been avoided. Why had I taken on so much? Why was I rushing through time?

The wait ended up being way more than an hour. I worried about the next morning's long bike ride. I hoped I would get home in time to have enough sleep to be up in time. And I did. I got out there and destroyed some pavement. But I had to jet off from the group at one point because I kept wanting to go, when they had stopped for a break. And there it is again. Me...wanting to rush through everything.

I have become so obsessed with getting things done and checking off my boxes that I have forgotten the actual value of time. I can and should spend it how I want. Yes, I don't get any of it back, but that's where you have to assign it meaning. There are times when yes deadlines have to be met, and met fast. But others can be more flexible. I can take a few extra minutes to wait for other bikers to catch up. I can take on less, to have more time to myself. Life is not a sprint. It's a marathon. I need to break it down into smaller increments if I'm going to survive.

And with something as big as Ironman...I realize I REALLY need to take it week by week. My coach only let's me see my workout schedule a week in advance. It's very weird and unnerving to me, this avid planner that I am. Can't I just see the whole 34 week spread ?! Nope. Apparently the logic behind it is...somedays I'm going to be riding for 8 hours and running for 2 after. Coach doesn't want me to see and have a bad mentality going into that week's training.

I respect that. And I now welcome it, after this insane week of self-induced stress over time. Focusing on the here and now will be a good (and slower) change of pace (literally) for me.

I'm going to pick and choose what I want to do with that time, as well. And if I have to wait for something? It's okay. IT'S OKAY. It is probably worth it (the restaurant was totally worth it, btdubbs).

In summary: Time is a tricky entity, but breaking it down into smaller sections and being okay with taking things a little slower, stopping once in a while, and maybe even waiting, can lead to a better life.