“…That’s the dark side of Hampi.”

Training. It’s a pretty simple concept that I find myself writing more and more about as the weeks go by. In fact, it’s all I write about. All I think about. Every second of every day I find myself making a conscious decision to focus on one thing and one thing only: training. At this point I’m not even sure what I’m training for. Of course, yes, racing, and Ironman, and blah blah. But what is it really.

Over the past few days I think I’ve began to get a grasp on myself again. I starting to reflect on certain things in my day to day, and am realizing the roles each person and activity plays. Back to training.

In December of 2005, a man who had never met wrote the words: ‘This is your therapy.” He was referring to the sport of triathlon. All of it. The good, the bad, the interactions, the experiences and everything in between. 3 years later I find my lucky enough to call him my friend. In fact, I think he was the one to use the term first. He was right. This is my therapy and I am his friend. I run 18-mile runs and bike 100+ miles at a time and swim till I want to vomit. I hurt myself only to rebuild something. Not to make myself a better athlete, but to make myself a better person. To make sense of myself. To take my mind, which is thinking of a million things a second, and force it to focus on something simple. Something I know I can do well. Anyone who thinks I have it figured out is absolutely out of his or her minds! I’m a complete mess when it comes to things, most things.

So is this healthy? Is it proper? Self absorbed? Self-destructive? Sure, it’s all of the above. I grow because of it and I damage myself just the same. So why do it? Because one cannot pick and choose. One has to take the good and bad together.

A few years ago sports had a very different purpose. They kept me close with people. They made a culture for me, a place to call home. Today they seem to isolate me more and more. However I am becoming more and more aware that this is a result of my choices and actions. And if I expect it to change, another choice is what it takes.

There is a fine line between an unhealthy distraction and an outlet. I am not the first person to walk the gray area between the two, but I am starting to remember what this was all about.