So I'm out of cubicle-world! Certainly, "relief" is an appropriate word, but it feels like the change is so long overdue that it's a basic and natural need fulfillment, like coming up for air after being tossed from your surfboard, or eating after you've been really really hungry for awhile.

I have the study materials for personal trainer certification, ready to go. In one day off work, I've already done a bunch of errands, cleaned up a few things around the house, and sold a few things on eBay. But, I realized last night that I need to stop for a few days. What does that mean - stop what? And what should I do? I think it's more about a state of mind - stop putting pressure on myself to get things done, especially "by a certain time." Stop trying to fit 1,000 things into a day. My daily pace is simply...too fast. In part, this is self-chosen, as no-one else is pressuring me to be a competitive triathlete. (That's a separate entry, on why I do triathlon at all...) But I also see it as a Cultural Problem - especially in this country, we are not allowed to slow down and take breaks during the day - I mean real breaks, down-time like lunch plus a 1-hour nap. So we run all day until all we can do when we come home is plop on the couch and make a pathetic attempt to be attentive in our home lives. --Unless you're me, and then you fenagle ways to telecommute sometimes (even with employers who are strictly anti-telecommuting) so you can fit in training and naps.

The last time I remember having a pace that was comfortable enough that I didn't think about it was at the end of college, when I was finishing up one class at school and working part-time. At that stage in life, social life is easily accessible...people are all around you, roommates, friends, campus life. I remember having time to ride my bike over to school and take two hours to swim, sit in the sun, and shower. Then I'd ride home, eat, and take a brief-but-unhurried nap on the couch. It was just that feeling of not always having to rush to the next thing - just being.

And then I entered the nightmare of the corporate world. "Nightmare," because suddenly you're stuck in one place with the same people and doing the same thing, ALL DAY. Who's the joker who decided that one job had to consume at least 40 hours of the week? (And how come no-one counts commute time, which makes it 50?) If you're passionate about what you do and don't notice the clock ticking, that's great! But what about the masses who are really just there for the steady paycheck? How are they supposed to spend time with the families they support, or the friends they want to keep?

Somewhere along the way, I seem to have internalized this scheduling craziness. I don't think it's my core nature; it's an adaptation I developed in order to "keep up." And it has been anything but healthy for my body and mind.

What would it be like just "to be" for an extended period of time? If you're a fellow Eat, Pray, Love reader you know about Elizabeth Gilbert's struggle and eventual integration with long-term meditation. What if I didn't do anything for a week or two, except the necessities (like eating)? Would I start to feel useless or blob-like? Would my thoughts continue their wild antics and fluctuations, or eventually start to fade or gain a calmer rhythm, like they occasionally do in meditation?

I think that some of this "just being" is in order right now. The glitch is, I'm in the middle of training for another half-ironman triathlon, and everyone knows that consistency of training is key. At the moment, I'm excited about racing, and don't want to undo some of the work I've already put in by simply not training for a week or two. And then the worry of money enters the picture - the sooner I start the new thing, the sooner I'll have income. But, maybe I can put these things in a hold pattern for just a bit. Maybe I can change my state of mind, at least. Maybe I can just stop making daily lists, stop thinking "have to have to have to" all day, just for a little while. The textbook will still be sitting there, waiting for me to be ready.