(Let Me Count) the Weighs
The bathroom scale is getting a regular workout now, too: before and after every hard training session, every morning, and who knows how often when I'm not looking. It's not that Jay is obsessive or anything and I certainly want to help him monitor water loss and dehydration risk but c'mon! His body fat is lower than it was 22 years ago when we first met. I always said that I'd never marry a man whose thighs were smaller than mine, and right now I'm getting a little panicky about that.
My Strategy: Help him track the important numbers but don't indulge his obsessive tendencies.
Imagine the scene: I walk into the house stepping over foam rollers, spent ice packs, stretchy things for all sorts of body parts, pressure point balls, a portable electric stim machine, a mountain of yoga DVD's, and finally locate the dog in the corner, hyperventilating, searching for her food dish. Jay is asleep on the couch, snoring, swathed in compression wear. It's rather sweet, actually, to see him so peaceful. That said, I look forward to reclaiming my living room again in the not-too-distant future. Oh, and Annie is pretty keen on getting easier access to her kibble, too.
My Strategy: Focus on the positives, such as how sweet he looks curled up on the couch.
The Good Old Days
Post Kona, we'll have a short break? and then we'll be off to Tempe in November for Ironman Arizona. Looks like life won't get back to "normal" until December. That is, until Jay picks things back up in January for the 2013 season.
As much as I may joke (and whine) throughout the season, pursuing long-distance triathlon has made my partner a better man. And I'm OK with that.
Search for an Ironman.