“Did you…put a picture of yourself…in my office?”
Huh? I mean, I’m a Leo and all. So it’s not a crazy question. It’s not entirely outside the realm of possibility. But no. I did not…
“Hey! Did you put a picture of you in my mailbox?”
*sigh* No. No, I did not.
“Hey! Anyone want a picture of Coach Sunshine?”
Children. When we see these around campus. We throw these away.
I know there are others out there. In random places on campus.
Because he’s two years old.
But. At least he’s using 2019’s school picture. And not 2020’s. Because y’all…
I’m nothing if not an accurate photo subject.
Remember that picture of me starting lap two of the Blue Ridge Double? That told you exactly how I felt about that bullshit?
So. Fucking. Accurate.
If there was a photo of me going into last week. It would have looked exactly like that.
I knew last week was going to be a maximum stress week. I knew it going in.
So I was braced for it. For my own awful week.
I just didn’t know it was going to be awful for damn near everyone else in my life.
And I sure as fuck was not equipped to help anyone but myself.
I’m barely equipped to be there for other people even when I’m fully emotionally ok.
At one point, Fall Risk tried to commiserate with my whining.
“It’s been awful here, too. If that helps.”
No. It doesn’t. Let me be fully absorbed in my own stress and drama, dammit. Back off, Leo.
But even with the truly exhausting level of stress and drama, it brought some good with it.
I have the benefit of some truly exceptional co-workers. Like, a lot of them. Who dropped all of their own massive amounts of work. To support me. And relieve a pretty solid amount of the anxiety.
These amazing people said, “What do you need. Just tell me where to be. And what to do. And I’m in.” Knowing full well that their own work would be piling up on their desks. While they were busy helping maintain my sanity.
I had a constant supply of food provided to me. Just daily food. And coffee.
Food always helps. Always.
And even with that constant supply of high sugar food thrown at me. (Because I ate every damn bite of it. Obviously.) I still managed to drop some leg and ass circumference. Because testing involves walking a good 5-6 miles around campus just all damn day. Just constant movement.
Normally, when I put on any form of pants in the morning. I have to stop halfway. And take a rest break. And go about the rest of my preparations with my pants around my knees. Before going back in. And wrestling them the rest of the way up over my thighs. And butt.
I’m just a vision of class and beauty in the mornings.
But this week. Somewhere around Wednesday. Or Thursday. Those bitches just slid right on. With very little resistance.
It was…a little unsettling, to be honest.
I’m not even sure how…
I wasn’t getting any real running time in with my Cross Country team.
(But my picture did end up in the paper. And they didn’t use the school pic where I look like I’m clinging to the edge of sanity. So obviously Tommy had zero involvement in that. This was all Janky Left Pinky Toe work right here.)
So…I mean, I hate to give SOL Testing any sort of kudos. But it’s really the only explanation for this size reduction.
And I managed to make it to one of the two GJBeat podcasts this week. The one with the USATF National Champion. Who I so fully relate to. Because awkward social encounters and friend-making rules. That I’m going to make my Cross Country team listen to. Because they need to start thinking about running life after high school and college. And God knows I’m not the example they should follow.
Missed the podcast with White Dot Adventures. Which I’ve heard was exceptional. But I got to meet him later on. And I can listen to it. On my next 3 hour run. When we go on one of his guided trail runs.
But I made it to Friday. With just enough energy. To make it to my bed. And collect enough sleep. To crawl back out. And over to Peaks of Otter. Saturday morning. For an easy.
No. Not easy.
For a moderately paced jog. Up and down Sharp Top. And Flat Top. With a few of my favorites.
That last pic there? Of me and Tiny Brazilian?
Also totally accurate representations of us.
She said I was half naked. I said she was not in Antarctica.
But it was a perfect recovery from Terrapin 50k. And Hell Week.
And today I get to stroll up Peakwood. With Rogue. And Fall Risk. And I might even let them whine about their hell weeks. And not try to steal the attention.
Because I’m mostly recovered from mine.
So I can shove my whiny ass Leo back inside. And maybe offer some emotional support to people who aren’t me.
For that hour. Or two. Maybe two hours. Because Peakwood.