No words can possibly describe what I feel. I hope for confidence; I exude fatigue. If I thought last week felt hard, this week brought me to my knees. The Coach says it's supposed to feel that way, and I'm to, "please stay healthy." Believe me, I'm doing all I can to keep my body from breaking down. Massages with Elements at Wandermere, foam rolling that makes me wonder what hurts worst, the recovery or the workout, and praying. I do a lot of talking with God these days. Perhaps I'm not quite in denial, but there may exist a mild amount of bargaining.
Bryan sent me to bed earlier this week because I had the personality of a "wet dish rag." I never thought I'd take him up on the idea when the clock barely read 7 o'clock in the evening. Yet I did. Since my generally jovial self has taken a turn for the toilet, I suppose at least my training had better stay sharp. Derek has outlined a week that looks much like last week. What I learned this go-around, however, is that it certainly won't feel anything like last week did.
Thank goodness for the Olympics. If we didn't have such phenomenal athletes and moments to keep us motivated, Bryan would have to do a whole heck of a lot more work. Quite frankly, I can't rely on him much because he, too, finds himself cheering on our Olympians. For now, I'll rely on my God, my support crew, and my crock pot. Lord knows we'd having nothing to eat each night if it weren't for the work that puppy does while we're at work and lately, more often than not, training.