Week one of the winter circuit is in the books. The real horse show starts next week but the adventure is well underway. At the beginning of the week, I arrived and settled myself in Florida for the winter, after an uneventful drive down. The next ten weeks of my life will be spent here, working, training and dodging camper gremlins.
The first official week in the Airstream proved eventful. First, the wrong type of electric was installed and the electrician didn't know that campers ran on 110. Without my permission, he plugged my camper into 220 and fried the electric water heater. SO, no I have no hot water. While it is a pain, it could have fried the whole camper so I am considering myself lucky. It did, however, result in missing an entire days workouts. Fortunately, I had a day off at the end of the week that I didn't really need.
Then there was that little mishap with the black water tank. Oh yeah, that is as bad as it sounds. When it overflowed into the bathroom (which is bare sub-floor right now because I ripped all the horrid, moldy carpet out), I grabbed a pile of utility towels marked for washing and threw them down to do damage control while I realized that my sewer hose was ten feet too short. I ended up hooking the camper up and repositioning it with astonishing speed (if only I could run that fast). Later, the towels got scooped into a trash bag and deposited unceremoniously in an outdoor can, with no regard for their sacrifice. Unfortunately, the pile of laundry next to them included my bright green compression socks. I am afraid one of them may have gone down with the ship, as it is nowhere to be found. I will mourn them for some time.
This is a sad day for elf feet everywhere.
Then I got a nasty virus that made me thoroughly miserable for a few days, long enough to lose Saturday, or maybe it was Friday. I don't know. All I know is that my customer sent me a text with the horses that needed to be braided for the Parade of Champions on Sunday and I finished my work and went home to bed, setting an alarm to get up Sunday morning to braid them. I woke up thirsty at 10:30 and saw a note saying the Parade was at noon. I texted back, "Yeah, but that is on Sunday, correct?" She replied "Today is Sunday."
I had 90 minutes to get out of bed, get dressed, drive to the property and do 90 minutes worth of work.
I got done and I think the trainer felt it was worth some sub-par standards given the fun he had with it. Everyone was snickering when I walked in the barn. Awesome. (Note to self: Deposit dignity in same trash can as black water towels and your favorite sock.)
On one of those days midweek, I am not really sure which, I had a run and swim scheduled. I did the run with the plan of heading to the pool afterwards so that I could shower at the gym (note dead hot water heater). It was a good plan, except for that was the exact moment that my body decided to succumb to it ornery invader. Chilled and feverish, I wrapped my slightly sweaty body in fleece and crawled into bed, passing out without even taking the HRM strap off. (That leaves a mark. I don't recommend it.)
The next day, I had a great ride, even though I started off feeling like death. Still, DW didn't want me trying to make up the missed swim while I was under the weather. Letting go of that though, is not really my style. Obsessive, hyper-vigilant worrying combined with ditsy moments of pure oblivion, now that is my style!! Needless to say, I have hatched a plan that will let me get every missed workout done within the allotted seven days. I am one day and two workouts away from the goal.
THE FINISH LINE IS IN SIGHT!!! (Of course, that is assuming that I know what day it is.)