Maybe I posted this in my other blog. Maybe I decided I wanted it here, too.
Maybe I'm not a triathlete. Maybe I once was. Maybe I still am. Maybe I don't care. Maybe I do. Maybe I like to ride my bike a lot. Maybe I wish I could run more. Maybe I sometimes swim. Maybe it's not because I like it but because one day maybe it will be the only thing I can do, so I think maybe I should try to learn to love it. Maybe I'm too stubborn to love something out of desperation. Maybe I should move to a house with fewer stairs in it. Maybe my body doesn't cooperate with any rhyme or reason so I don't like to plan too far ahead. Maybe running on joints that stopped working reliably 8 years ago is so painful that it would send most people cryin' to their mamas. Maybe trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy with a head that pounds and a brain that seizes up and is foggy requires a lot of energy. Maybe even typing is sometimes painful. Maybe that sucks because writing is the thing I like to do the most. Maybe I'm passionate about my job because I can inspire people to do the things I'm not sure I can or want to do anymore, yet I know with certainty I help them change their lives for the better. Maybe the best part of my day on Wednesday was introducing two future triathletes to heart rate monitors, my tri-club, some tri-related websites and the local bike shop. Maybe this morning I'll smile while teaching my friend how to teach cycle. Maybe she will decide to ride outside, and maybe she will love it the way I do, and maybe one day we will ride together. Maybe I'll get my lift on with another friend today. Maybe strength training makes me feel in control of my body. Maybe I'm frustrated because invisible illnesses manifest themselves in ways people don't recognize like falling behind on everyday tasks that others take for granted. Maybe the one thing I want most in the world I can't have. Maybe I don't want anyone to tell me to feel better because maybe when you know you never will, that gets old. Maybe it sounds like I'm feeling sorry for myself. Maybe I am, but the reality is I don't think I ever really do. Maybe I should. Maybe I've spent a lot of time making the most of my situation. Maybe that's inspiring. Maybe I wish it wasn't. Maybe I'm tired of it. Maybe I'm just tired.