Saturday, July 01, 2006

Droopy Dog

I am working on a humorous post about triathlete idiosyncracies, and I was thinking of posting it tonight, but I can't do it. It's just not coming together. If you'll allow a little wallowing, I am in a real funk.

This has been a tough week. You all have probably experienced the blues or depression after a big race or when you back off your training. This was the week after my Ironman 70.3 race, and I have been resting and intentionally beginning a period of detraining. Add to this that Mrs. Greyhound and the puppy are away, and you can imagine why I'm a bit down.

Tonight, I was sitting at my desk trying to organize the bills as Pararie Home Companion was ending. I flahsed back, eighteen years ago, to a winter evening when I would have been listening to the same progam in my empty quarters at the University of Wisconsin. Most everyone else was out on State Street. I listened to their voices and watched the snow from my window. My afianced Mrs. Greyhound all the way across the country, just like she is tonight.

I am nearly twice as old as I was then, but I feel the same angst of youthful loneliness. In a sense, it is worse now. The Christian marriage liturgy talks of how man and wife become "one flesh." As a younger man, those words meant something primarily physical to me. As an older man, I know tonight that part of who I am--part of me--is not here tonight.

5 comments:

TriBoomer said...
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TriBoomer said...

Solitude plus post-race funk is a pretty nasty pest. But hey, dog, don't let that flea burrow. Soon things will return to normal.

It takes about two weeks after an "A" race until I want to train again and another week for the race bug to return. What works for me is to volunteer at a local road race or tri. Giving back will help lift your doggy spirits and give you something to do beyond the leash.

Stay tuned...

JustJunebug said...

thats probably the sweetest thing i have ever read...

Nytro said...

seriously, that was just the sweetest thing. brought a tear to this cynic's eye. either that, or it's allergies. who knows?

Noddie said...

dang that was sweet.. sigh.. good for Mrs. Greyhound!