When the hammer falls

"No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however it produces right living and peace for those who have been trained by it."

Trimama had to bring the hammer down last night on Soapinator and Hyphen Girl. Not the simple little taps of instruction and course correction, but the full on tearing of the universe hammer down. Discipline is without a doubt the most troubling aspect of parenting. I don't like being disciplined by life, I know my girls don't like being disciplined, so I would love to soften the hammer. But then they would never learn. They wouldn't grow and develop into the young ladies I expect them to become. This present culture is already presenting seemingly insurmountable obstacles to this end, so the fight goes on. Suffice to say, it was a quiet ride home last night, and lots of tears. No computer, no television, no phone. 24 hours. And anger, mom's anger. And broken relationship. Then the talks and forgiveness in the morning-and yes the grounding is still in place after school- I didn't forget.

The days are lengthening, and the buds are debuting, storing up all their latent energy, ready for that initial burst of spring, and the bikes are being tuned up, and the teams have reported for spring training, and tourney time is in the air, and trihubby is working another night, so some fresh air time at the park was in order, and mud facials and dirty boots and cold hands, and pigbutt potato soup for dinner, and conversation. And the hole in the universe was repaired.

I completed another round of registrations for races this morning. Gulp. There is a part of me training for an ironman by way of two half iron races and that part seems so incredibly detached from the part that registered for one almost olympic distance race in July. Gulp. How can I possibly be gulping at a 1/2 mile swim, 21 mile ride and 5.2 run. Because my experienced side is gulping. The ironman side is so distinctly different, so inexperienced, that they don't dance very well with each other. I doubt they ever will. There is such a colossal difference between training to compete and training to race well and finish. And I had to write my race day age, and I still find that shocking, I always will because the part of me that trains still feels 21. And I registered my 12 and almost 10 year old for their first triathlons and so as SLJ accurately reported, we can now be called the Tri Tribe. and I am Trimama. Except at Beginner Triathlete.com where that username has already been claimed. Sometimes the world is simply too small.

60 minute tempo run tomorrow followed by weights and core.






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