Working hard or hardly slacking

I haven’t done any training since Thursday. It’s Monday for those keeping tabs. That’s five whole days of what you hulk-smash triathletes call slacking off. Apparently, when you work for an event company that puts on a 5K and a triathlon eight days apart you are extremely busy, go-go-go, non-stop, mentally and physically. I also learned that to turn off a generator you can’t just unplug it, because it is the power. So many things learned, so many more things to learn.

A colleague assured me the 5K would be easy, I’d blink and it would be over. She was mostly right, though with how sore and fatigued I was from it all I wondered how I’d survive the triathlon. The triathlon was insane. I’m not sure I really did survive it. I mean, I’m here, typing, breathing, blinking… but I still haven’t slept it off. I’m also already on women’s half marathon mode PROMOTE PROMOTE PROMOTE. Hey, do you want to run an all women’s half marathon?

Here’s the thing about working a triathlon, the “no exceptions” in the rule book means nothing to anyone. Everyone was an exception. I was blown away by how many athletes disregarded the rules. Of course, we’re not Ironman, we’re not handing out DQs or penalties, but still. And the questions. So many questions I would have never thought of. So many questions that threw me so far off my game, my head was spinning, I’m not sure I answered anything coherently.

Big takeaway, I’m not cut out to be the transition captain. I’m not aggressive enough, or scary enough. If someone forgot their goggles how could I possibly say no you can’t go back in there?

Though I felt like I was putting on a shit-show, apparently we–the team did good. The reviews and comments have been positive–KNOCKING REALLY HARD ON WOOD NOW.

Other huge takeaway, and I wish I would have remembered this realization when boss-man asked me how I felt about it all…On Friday night driving home from a 12 hour day, I realized that it hadn’t occurred to me that I was putting so much time in. I didn’t think of it as “work”, but as helping put together a great event and hanging out with fun people. Through the course of the weekend I put in over 30 hours (Friday, Saturday, Sunday) of physical and mental work. I woke up at 3:40am on Sunday. I carried heavy equipment across a muddy field. I did so much that I don’t even know what I did. I assembled a mannequin at one point. I did a lot. I worked hard, but don’t feel like it was work, because it was fun.

That’s how I know I love what I do.



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