Is it a full moon or something? Usually, the Griffith Park LA Tri Club brick is filled with positive energy and nothing but encouragement. Maybe it was the 90-degree-plus heat at 5 p.m. Or the huge swells that hit Santa Monica this morning. But something was different tonight. Three different Tri Clubbers offered nothing but discouragement in three separate conversations. Two of them didn't mean anything by it, both commenting either on their fatigue or a poor race performance at the Santa Barbara Triathlon. The third (and his friend) flat out warned me about marriage and begged me to get a pre-nuptial agreement because he had just lost hundreds of thousands of dollars in a settlement. Both friends chided me about being closer to the "unhappy 50%" who get divorced.
Gee, thanks guys.
The places where I go to train are equivalent to a spiritual and physical dojo. I expect negativity, like shoes at a martial arts studio, to be left at the door.
Today, the dojo was muddied. Footprints stained the white canvas. It's ugly. And unappreciated. Ironically, this comes on the same day I interviewed a leading sports psychologist for a freelance magazine website story I'm writing. We discussed the benefits to blogging or journal-keeping, along with the risks. Without tipping my hand or my source's viewpoint, one of the risks associated with blogging or journal-keeping is reflecting on the negative so that it becomes self-destructive. I'm going to take that feedback to heart tonight. I'll clean up my mental dojo, sweep up the dirt and grime, and look forward to another day of training tomorrow.
Tonight reminded me of how powerful words can be. Just a few poorly chosen ones can negatively color someone else's mood or general outlook. I'm vowing right here to strengthen my resolve to encourage others, and if I have something to discuss that could be construed as negative, I'll think twice and ask myself if it's helpful, valuable and necessary information to share.
If it isn't, I'll keep my mouth shut.
Some nights, blogging is really hard. I write words down almost just for the sake of keeping my ritual intact. Tonight, it's as if I'm pouring back garbage into a wastebasket and rapidly jogging down the hall to throw it down the chute. The process is short, messy, stinky and I want to get it over with quickly so the room the wastebasket sat in can return to its normal aroma.
And now the cleansing part:
-- Just because other people's relationships fall apart doesn't mean mine will. I'm 100% confident of that.
-- What happened to other people at the Santa Barbara Triathlon in years past is their experience. I'm about to define my own.
-- Yes, an Ironman will take a huge toll on my body and mind. I should expect at least a month to fully recover, and that's totally OK. I have no problem with that.
Good. Got that over with.
And now, I return to my normal, happy outlook on life and training.
Good night, all.
87 days and counting.