Four miles on four hours of sleep is not an ideal training scenario.
These days find me in the center of a perfect storm of poor planning (or hubris).
I’m in putting the finishing touches on my forthcoming CD, “The Invention of Everything Else,” due June 18th on Des Moines’ own Authentic Records. I’m still tracking vocals and mixing before shipping off to Nadas’ bassist (and Sonic Factory Studios engineer, Jon Locker) for mixing. Then comes mastering, replication, and marketing — to say nothing of putting together release parties and rehearsing for said performances.
Meanwhile, I’m working feverishly with my brother, Christofer, on a rough cut of our forthcoming documentary, “Mister Rogers & Me.” The film chronicles my brief friendship with and lessons learned from America’s most beloved neighbor, Fred Rogers. We have a film festival deadline in just ten days.
And of course I’m training for the Hy-Vee Triathlon, the starting cannon for which goes off just five weeks from Saturday.
Did I mention my day job? I basically do product and business development for MTV News. So there goes another twelve hours a day.
So I find myself eating Balance bars for lunch, canceling dinner plans, and catching up with my wife in the three minutes we’re both awake somewhere around three o’clock in the morning. Mostly, though, I just find myself not sleeping.
I suppose this sounds like most of you would describe as “parenthood,” right?
My brother reminded me last week that this is all elective. I’ve am the rainmaker of my own storm. I acknowledge and appreciate that.
For some reason, though, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Just as I feel more energized on days that I train, I feel more energized on days that I’m active with everything else.
Besides, it’s finite. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all these races I’ve done, it’s that there’s always a finish line.
And sometimes there’s a minor epiphany. Like this morning. My head was foggy. My limbs just didn’t want to do my bidding. My stride was off. When the sun crested over Midtown Manhattan as I reached the Hudson River, and the chorus of The Damnewells’ “I Am Leaver” hit my iPod in glorious four part harmony, I thought, “I can do this.”
Which explains the whole darned thing.
This blog post was first published as part of The Des Moines Register’s Hy-Vee Triathlon training series.