Happy Old Year

So it has been.

With the disappointments and frustrations of 2009 came gifts large and small: perspective, adventure, and a humble little box bearing a reluctant treasure called maturity.

Turning 41 means accepting that the days of being the hot girl at the beach are long gone. It means that doing 100 free repeats on 1:25 is about the best you can hope for. It means a sore knee can break your heart. It means an Ironman goal can turn into the satisfaction of a Danskin finish.

2009 brought, for the first time that I can remember, a tiny taste of boredom. How do you fill the 16-25 hours per week you planned to spend training for the Ironman when suddenly you can't?

With layoffs of colleagues, workload partially filled that gap. Our yard looks pretty nice. I was reaquainted with old friends and made a few new. I joined Toastmasters, and am a new, better person in public when I have to be. Mike and I took in the Sundance Film Festival, watched whales off Whidbey Island, and challenged our brains, hearts, and the soles of our shoes in Washington DC. We went to Kalaloch for the first time, and our beloved Stu Chin for the sixth. I watched football on television, even when the ironing was done. I had not one Girls Getaway weekend to sunny climes, but two. I tried cross country skiing for the first time. I swam 3 miles in rough salt water. I swam 3 miles naked in broad daylight.

I woke up one morning in August and weighed 118 pounds. And never felt fatter.

I second guessed my knee and its treatment, blessing and cursing the kind of doctors who are determined NOT to stick a knife into your body unless they are sure it will help fix you.

I celebrated how lucky I am that I have the kind of friends who ask:

"How is your knee or are we not talking about it tonight?"

And understand when you answer:

"I love you for asking, but indeed we are not."

I will get better.

Over the last few days, friends have reflected on the year that was. One lost both of his grandparents, and just last week, his uncle, too. Another lost his dog, and then deck fell off his house. So many lost their jobs. Some lost their true loves, one of them very suddenly on the day after Christmas.

What about me? I lost a year of triathlons. And gained a year of experiences I would not have had otherwise.

How's that for perspective, adventure, and, dare I say it, maturity?

Happy Old Year, and Happy New Year, too.