We leave next Tuesday evening for the annual Reno Championship Air Races. This trip has been in the planning stages since last year, and I have booked our hotel room and purchased our event tickets several months ago. Things have changed so much in the last couple of months, and in truth I really do not want to be away for another week.
But I will suck it up and go, have as good a time as I do at this event every year. I do it for M, because he practically lives for this week of aviation immersion.
Generally speaking, I have the process and the trip down to a relative science. In the years we have been attending I have learned enough about what works best for us and our stress levels to know that reserved seats and multi-day pit passes are a must, and that the shuttle from the hotel is worth every single penny of the cost. The first three days – Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday – are always the most interesting, because we get to watch the qualifying heats and see planes in the air that might be grounded for the balance of the event. Saturday and Sunday are like most other air shows, and sinceI have seen the professional air teams flying several times I can choose their time for potty and refreshment breaks. I am loading up my Kindle with books to read and music to listen to in the down times. While M is off in the pits chatting with friends and acquiantances, I can be reading or working from our seats. We take the first shuttle to Stead – usually leaves at 7 a.m. – and will be back at the hotel completely exhuasted around 5 p.m. Shower, dinner, fall into bed – wash, rinse, repeat each day.
If M were more netural on staying or going I would probably cancel the trip, but he is like a child counting down to Christmas right now. Work will be fine while I am away, and I will get my workouts done in the hotel gym each morning while M is off doing his daily run. This should be our last vacation-worthy trip for the year, and I suppose I am wondering what I was thinking when I planned 2 trips within a few weeks of each other. Of course, at the time I booked our trip to Seattle I was working full-time, feeling burned out, had not yet started my personal training sessions, and was simply desperate for escape. Again, how things have changed in just a few months.
Today is better for me, mentally and emotionally. I had a very tough yoga class last night and felt like I was starting all over again with my practice. This disappointment and frustration I felt seemed right in line with the weekend funk-fest; I came home discouraged and with the addition of an aching right hip/knee/ankle/foot. A restless night’s sleep found me blowing off rowing this morning and sleeping in so late I was behind schedule getting out the door. I grabbed the first khaki thing I found in the dresser and put them on, and they fit perfectly, zipped and buttoned comfortably. It was only after I put on my top and was bending over looking for shoes that it dawned on me these were in my “too tight” clothes section (clean laundry in the guest room waiting to be folded or hung up). I thought I was wrong at first, but no, these were pants that I could barely squeeze into much less button or zip in January. Now, they fit. Perfectly. Comfortably. And they look cute, too.
I think northern California’s blazing sun was even brighter in that moment.
Yoga, strength training, exercise and getting fitter is hard for me right now. I still don’t love it, but I don’t dread it most of the time either. But I have always said it is all about the clothes for me, and moments like this morning make me realize the hard work, the expense for having J train me, the frustration and struggle with perfecting exercise form and yoga postures – it’s all worth it when a pair of pants I had grown too big to fit into are mine once more.
Happy Wednesday everyone!