Bills, Bills, Bills

There are certain things I expected when I "quit" swimming.  The first and most obvious was weight gain.  Regardless of trying to work out or not, I prepared myself and knew this was inevitable.  The second thing I prepared myself for was missing the sport, getting the urge to swim again.  I knew I'd miss friends and the feeling in the water.  What I did not expect to gain was anxiety.

Up until this point in my life I've considered myself a fairly calm, easy going person.  I hope people would describe me as driven, goal-oriented and hardworking as well, but for the most part I tried to take things as they came.  Roll with the punches, if you will.  But lately, I've found that I am anything but laid back.  I find myself stressing about everything.  But at the top of that list are bills, bills and more bills.  I know I am not the only person worrying about these things.  They're natural things to worry about and in a way, it's good that I am concerned about my spendings.  But because I no longer have the outlet of swimming and the constant pushing my body to exhaustion, I find myself staying up at night worrying about things completely out of my control, while my yellow lab, Deuce, snores peacefully on the bed next to me.

Deuce, always cool and calm under pressure

I recently accepted a seasonal position with a company in the DC area.  While I am excited about the prospects of a new adventure with a growing company, I find that my excitement is completely overshadowed by my crippling anxiety. I worry how I will be able to pay rent.  Will I find the right roommate?  How can I pay for a place to live with such a low income?  And forget just the rent.  How can I possibly manage to pay my utilities, my phone bill, my car insurance, my health insurance, not to mention gas, groceries while leaving (if even just a little) room for a social life so I don't go insane?

As if this doesn't give me enough anxiety, I tack a few more things to the list.  I worry about fitting in time for working out,  having enough time and energy for a long distance relationship (should I have stayed near him?  Will he ever move to me? Will we be able to make it?  Will the last four years be for nothing?).  Add to that the anxiety over having my stuff spread between my parents house, in a suitcase, and in a storage center (adds to the stress because of the monthly cost) and it's enough to drive a person completely and utterly insane.  It's exhausting and its enough to leave me defeated before I've even begun.

My mom suggests yoga.  That I need to find a way to release all of my worries and learn how to cope with them again.  I know I need to learn how to let people help me, but as an athlete, you get used to helping yourself.  You're under the impression that as long as you work hard enough, anything is possible.  This theory is similar to the fairy tale ending where a prince will sweep you off your feet and ride off into a sunset with your hair strategically and beautifully flowing in the wind.  Dream on.  Hard work is great and it is an admirable quality that I believe is imperative, but it doesn't always equal success.

But I'm starting to ask myself the question, what is success?  Is it happiness?  Financial security? And more importantly, where do I fall in all of this?  Do I need to stop putting so much pressure on myself to be in the "right" job with the "right" salary?

Hopefully I'll find in the end that this is just a normal phase in a post-athlete's search for normalcy and everything will soon calm down, that I'll learn just as every one else has, to adjust to "real" life and find a way to make it work.

But until then, here's to countless tablets of Tum's and relaxing breaths!