09 July 2010
Therapy, The Zen of Red Wine, and Dehydration
At times like this, I always like to remind myself that no two people are hard-wired exactly the same. I am constantly reminded of this in my daily life. Sometimes, it is in the form of witty t-shirts like:
There are 10 kinds of people in the world: those that understand binary, and those who do not.
Sometimes, I am reminded in the form of age-old adages like:
There are two kind of people in the world: those that think there are two kinds of people in the world, and those who do not.
My father would sometimes remind me that not everyone appreciates Picasso; not everyone understands contemporary music, (heck, I knew that one,) not everyone like pasta (which I think is just downright ludicrous!) I remember, one time, I was having a conversation with my father about wine. Since my father imbibed in a decent glass of red with dinners most evenings, I would often try to gain some insight into what made a good bottle of wine. I'll never forget the age-old wisdom he gave me once: "You know what the best bottle of wine is?" Pause. I shrug my shoulders. "The one that you like," he replied.
The past week has been incredibly difficult trying to negotiate my father's death.
Fortunately, I am also at an extremely busy time in my life. I am surrounded by a mountain of new projects. I just agreed to write three new solo violin pieces for a recording project in January for my friend Jo Nardolillo. I will have updates on my progress as I get underway to write these pieces. This weekend I am racing the Musselman HIM in Geneva, NY, and I am also one of the directors for the Musselman Arts Triathlon—a twelve hour concert of live music, dance, and visual art. This weekend month also marks the one year anniversary of my blog. I can not believe I have been writing this for a year! Did I mention that the concert that I helped coordinate, and am playing in until 10:00 p.m. is the night before the triathlon? Remind me NEVER to do this again!
Luckily, the training—albeit spotty with everything going on—has been incredibly therapeutic. Going out and beating the hell out of my body for two or three hours leaves me with little angst when I am through. Not to mention that I have found solace in my long runs, thinking about my father, asking him for help with everything from handling the heat, to my stride. I know he is out there with me, and it gives me special comfort. The training has been a way of channeling my sorrow into something positive. I am not sure how I would manage without it.
I DID beat my body up a little too much on Tuesday however. It was about 93 degrees and 50% humidity. So, I decided to go out for a run during the hottest part of the day—not smart. I brought nutrition with me, but I was toasting during my mile splits. After I was finished, I jogged over to the soccer field that was being watered by one of those industrial strength sprinklers that was about nine feet tall. I let it pour over me for a minute or two, but I had to jog just to keep up with it moving—ineffective. Finally, I ran back to my office and took a shower in the locker room. I hydrated that night, or so I thought. We hosted some friends from out of town and I drank a beer and half a glass of wine (as well as a lot of water.) I went out for a swim Wednesday and my stomach was really wringing. It felt like I had a sharp, stabbing pain. I thought that I might have acid, or an upset stomach. I got out to the first buoy and had to turn around I was in so much pain. The way back home was excruciating. Painful. My stomach hurt for about three hours. Finally, I arrived home and had a glass of Gatorade while I sat upstairs in my bed. Ah... that had been it all along—DEHYDRATION! Woah! The obscenely hot run the day before, the beer at dinner, and the diminished fluid intake the following day, all led to a debilitating day void of any training.
So, today, I am getting things together for the triathlon and the Arts Tri. I am a little stressed out, and unfortunately, the stress takes some energy away from preparation. It is draining. I am picking up my wife's cousin from the airport tonight. He is coming in from Florida, and we will be running Musselman together—great fun!
Looking forward to an extremely busy weekend. Here goes nothing!
More soon. Train Smart!