When people asked me right after the race if I ever wanted to do another Ironman, I would say, "Maybe when I'm 50." You know, because I really did enjoy the process and the outcome, but realistically, it was too much sacrifice to ask of my family at this stage of our lives.
One month after the race, my view has changed.
Now I think I will never, ever, ever, in a million years do one of these again. I look at my Kona magazine ("THIS IS YOUR LAST ISSUE!") and just see a bunch of crazy people wasting their finite time on this planet getting ever-more obsessed with mileage and wattage and VO2 max and aerodynamic bike shorts and the pros and cons of different types of shoe cushioning.
Yes, the New Julie has a lot more free time and a bit more perspective on her priorities in life.
Of course, the New Julie also can't seem to keep up her measly 32-minute-per-week workout regimen. I was expecting a post-Ironman mental backlash against exercise, but it's worse than I imagined.
So the new New Life Plan is this: I'm taking the rest of the summer off, both from any kind of structured exercise plan and from worrying about it. I'm not going to do anything I don't want to do. Lest you fear I'll need to rename my blog "140.6 to Zero," I should mention that I do want to do yoga, and I might even want to swim, run, or bike. I just don't have to. I'll try to pick up with the old New Life Plan after the kids are back in school and a routine seems within my grasp.