Over this weekend, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to how I want to spend the next five weeks before my transfer. I’ve been kind of back and forth on this. At first, as I wrote in my last post, I thought–wow, this is a long period of being “off the clock,” an opportunity to run, travel, date, drink, all the things I’ve been more or less avoiding to focus my energy on being healthy, rested, and positive.
After that post, new mom A recommended starting to live as though I’m pregnant now (which frankly sounded boring although I heard an echo of wisdom in it). Then my dad suggested that maybe running a race could leave my body depleted of energy just when I need it to be ready to perform a major feat. Uh, good point. Another friend C raised a virtual eyebrow today when I mentioned maybe putting my online dating profile back up, you know, as a fun distraction.
There were two baby showers this weekend, so I spent both afternoons with my SMC friends. After knowing them for over a year, I love each of them individually and would be friends with all of them outside of having this big thing in common. And having this big thing in common is so powerful and bonding. As I talked through the above considerations, more eyebrows raised, including eventually my own, and I started really thinking about what my goals are for this window of time.
It turns out that giving myself a holiday, easing the reigns and letting go of limits, is really not aligned with my bigger goal here. The few drinks I’ve had in the past week have made me feel foggy and exacerbated my allergies. None of the races I looked at are lined up on weekends that work and the distances made me anxious given how little time I’d have to train. I’ve stayed up past midnight the past two nights and still woke up early. And Dr. Hawaii threw me for a loop this weekend.
It should have been no big deal, let’s meet up for a drink. Still, a pleasant prospect of seeing him again, maybe despite all the poor communication he’d turn out to be great in person again, right? Well, after not hearing from him all weekend he texted me tonight, already back in Hawaii after “a whirlwind trip,” with no acknowledgement that he’d left me hanging on tentative plans (which, of course, were his idea). He concluded by asking whether I have any plans to come to Hawaii. Wow.
We are obviously from different planets. I didn’t expect much from him, and he delivered even less. He doesn’t matter–truly–and I am not heartbroken. I just feel the reminder that opening up means you can get slammed back down, and does it really make sense to take the risk at this critical time? Not that lovely moments can’t pop up at the most random times, and not that I don’t crave companionship, but am I really in a position to go seeking it? Shouldn’t my precious positive energy be directed at the basics that keep me afloat: physical, mental, and spiritual health?
I sense now that there is no spring break from this process and embryo #1 is counting on me to enter into my transfer as ready as I can be, with reduced clutter, minimal interference, a fine-tuned landing pad. Sound body and mind. Inner calm. Focus. Now I’ll develop my five-week curriculum around that.
I suppose it makes sense that when I realized that what looked like a longer-than-usual ‘hiatus,’ I would try to get ‘back to ‘normal.’ I think what I’m realizing now is that it’s not a hiatus, it’s actually a runway.
And this is the new normal.