I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I lie awake at night, long after Steve starts to softly snore and my mind races. I try to visualize the ocean’s waves or something equally calming but it doesn’t seem to work because then I start imagining myself swimming in the ocean for the triathlon I decided to do this summer and my stomach twists in knots. So then I imagine the sunrise and for a minute I relax until I think about how early the kids have been waking and how late it is now and oh man why aren’t I asleep yet. I squint my eyes and peer at the clock and sigh because I just lost another hour of sleep that I could really use. Eventually, I do sleep but only for what feels like a minute until three or five am when Leila calls to go pee or Alena hollers out in her sleep and I’m up in a flash, across the hall to them. Back in bed not five minutes later, but wide awake again, watching the sky turn pink outside my window wishing desperately I was sleeping.
The funny thing is, I’ve been functioning really well, seeing as I’m usually an “eight hours a night or bust” kind of girl. My energy level seems alarmingly high, and I wonder out loud if maybe I’m a little manic and the inevitable crash is coming. Then Steve tells me I’m a hypochondriac and I laugh it off but secretly worry because just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get you, you know?
We went for a 20k bike ride today while the kids were in daycare and I should have been working on my Accounting assignment. I’ve read so many lovely things about biking lately, but I’m here to tell you that none of them are true. It’s a horrible exercise in pain. After we got home, my legs felt like jelly for a solid hour, and I’d just like to remind you that last week I ran for 22km straight and came home and didn’t even flinch until 8pm when I suddenly got very tired. Maybe it’s because I’m new to it, but I kind of hate that, too. Like, hell, I’ve worked so hard to be very fit and healthy and then something like a bicycle can kick my ass? I mean, I’ve been riding the damn things for almost 25 years.
Then there’s the class I’m taking which is over the span of a whirlwind 6 weeks which means that my midterm filled with very complicated accounting lingo and numbers that need to be balanced, is in ten days.
Plus the Leadership Conference I’ve arranged and organized in Toronto next month. Plus the girls’ combined birthday party next weekend. And a half marathon somewhere in there, coaching a running clinic two days a week, putting in the hours of a stay at home mom, what with the cleaning and cooking and laundry and man, I’m tired just thinking about it!
But my mind wandered today, back to a marathon and what marathon would maybe be the best one to score a Personal Best (Ottawa, I concluded) and maybe I could do the full next May and still have the summer to train for another triathlon and then I remembered that I’m actually going to be taking a full course load next year and there are, quite possibly, not enough hours in my week to train for a marathon right now. But if it mattered enough, I’d make the time, I thought to myself.
And then I wondered when I actually lost the physical ability to sit still for very long. I’m juggling all these balls and managing to keep them up in the air, but sometimes I feel that if I can’t throw just one more ball into the mix, I’m not really doing all that much at all. And every once in a while, I’m scared that if I look away for one second, I’ll lose them all. And if my house isn’t clean and I don’t look fit and if my kids throws a tantrum in the store then everyone will know that this is all a charade and I’m not the super woman I have people fooled into thinking I am.
I need just one more marathon, just five more pounds gone, just a clean floor, an empty laundry basket, a little more patience…
What am I trying to prove? Who are these ghosts I struggle against? And when is what I do going to be enough?