The World Keeps Spinning

What a wild week it’s been – it’s as if every aspect of my life was conspiring to make me as busy as I ever have been. Work has been insanely busy, which is wonderful in some ways, because being busy is far preferred to being bored, but is also exhausting. And the renovations to repair the damage from the leak last month have begun so my kitchen (my beautiful, dream kitchen) is being ripped apart. Every day it’s something new that needs to be done. In the end it will be fine, with new refinements that allow us to make it our own, rather than just what it was when we bought it (which was still pretty spectacular).

It’s just the process of getting there that is not fun. The physical upheaval causes psychological upheaval – chaos in my living space is not conducive to peace in my head. And my social life exploded this week as well – Mike picked me up from the train station last Sunday with just enough time to run my bags home, pat the cats hello, and then rush out again for a Superbowl party we’d promised we’d attend.

Monday night was my strength training class, which ran late, so I wasn’t home until after 8 p.m. Tuesday night was a haircut and then dinner out and errands to run while Mike went to volleyball. Wednesday was another strength training class which, once again, ran late. And also saw me committing to walk the half-marathon in May with a couple women from my class who have never walked one and wanted to.

So now I’m dusting off the training plan and trying to find time to fit in long walks again… Thursday is our ski lesson night, so it was home from work for a quick change and then run to the hill. And Friday we were off to Mt. Tremblant for the weekend with three of our closest friends.

Tremblant was wonderful and busy and exhausting. I finally made it to the top of the mountain and attempted to make it down by ski. I was not successful. I made it half-way down, but not without stress and tears – I am not ready, or I do not have the confidence to ski some of the even moderate steepness of the ‘easy’ slopes, despite my best efforts. Skiing triggers some of my deepest seated fears – heights, speed, injury, pain, failure, etc., etc., etc…

I keep trying because I have moments of understanding what it is that makes this a much-loved sport of many, including my husband. I have moments where the fear subsides and the thrill of the (timid, tepid) speed takes over, but those are few and far between. I want to enjoy this sport. I want to have a winter activity I enjoy. But I also have to wonder how many times I will put myself through this? How long do I keep trying, keep giving myself panic attacks, before I say “Enough. I have tried enough. This is not for me?” I have three weeks of lessons left, lessons I intend to finish. And then, from there, we’ll see.

All in all things have been fantastic, even if they have been stressful. We’re out living our life if nothing else. And how can we complain about that?!