Mine is not a family known for its athletic restraint. Training for our first marathon together (my dad's fifth overall), both my dad and I got stress fractures, a notorious overuse injury. Around that same time, my uncle did a 24-hour bike ride in Moab, then decided to drive home. After falling asleep at the wheel, he flipped the car and walked out unscathed. My dad, two uncles, and aunt realized they needed some bonding time. So they chose white-water rafting and camping for several days. My aunt and uncle in Colorado have an entire garage devoted to mountain bikes and telemark skis. Like I said, we're not familiar with restraint.
So it shouldn't have surprised me that over Thanksgiving weekend, my training schedule more closely resembled the daily activities of an entire summer camp than one person's weekend agenda:
Thursday, 8am: 1 hour 10 minutes trail running with dad in NJ
Friday, 7:45am: 50 minutes trail running with dad in NJ
Saturday: 45-minute run, one-hour Pilates reformer, 2 hours/9 holes golf at Jon's parents' gated community in Florida (aka summer camp for adults)
Sunday: 1 hour tennis practice with ball machine, 50 laps in outdoor pool in FL
This was followed by a 2-hour trail run at Bear Mountain on Tuesday and a 5.5-miler with running buddy Sari on Wednesday. Yeesh.
Given my lack of ability to restrain myself athletically, I've decided to attempt to master a new kind of restraint: quitting candy cold turkey. At least for a few days. As of lunchtime, day #4, I'm happy to report that with one minor slip into the chocolatey carress of a Hershey Kiss, I've shown remarkable control. As someone who frequently wears a cookie monster t-shirt for the sole purpose of stealing cookies from others, this is a HUGE achievement for me.
Now if you'll excuse me, there's a candy bar wrapper in my drawer I have to lick.
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