TGIF, because tomorrow is a sleep-in Saturday, a rare and coveted event for me.  I’m wiped out – emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually… and any other way there is to be tired.  This would be an excellent time for a Caribbean beach vacation if I weren’t so intent on getting back into my routines and my “groove.”
The drama with my sister has come to an ugly head, and the family is discussing some sort of intervention in an attempt to get her the help she desperately needs.  As I toyed with the idea of a trip to Indiana to participate, I realized I’m just not willing to sacrifice my own sanity for the sake of hers anymore.  My traditionally hands-off father is in problem-solving mode, and my enabling mother is zipping her lips in fear of being denied access to Princess Cutie Pie.  My beaten-down brother-in-law is standing in the doorway of divorce.  What a fucking mess.   
The bright side is that it’s not my fucking mess.  
It’s not my fucking mess.  
Despite the holidays and other interruptions, my workouts with Coach are slowly building back up to a higher intensity again, and I’m delighted about that.  He pushed me a bit this week now that my marathon is over, and I’m pleasantly sore all over.  I do love that.  He warned me several times that next week we’ll start back up with his CrossFit-style insanity drills.  I felt my face light up and a warm sensation radiate through me.  I can’t wait to get back to serious business on the gym floor.  
Sweat, grit, determination, pushing limits… 
Now that’s one mess I don’t mind getting into.   

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