Here I sit in the location where I truly believe God intended me to take up permanent residence: the Ritz Carlton Hotel. To say that I love the Ritz Carlton would be like saying that Brett Favre has committment issues. Like saying that Britney Spears has issues. Like saying that American Idol is a little played out. I do. I love it. A lotta lotta lot.
And I am also spending a week away from my real life, which is a good thing for me. We all need a break from ourselves once in a while, especially when your self is bossy and demanding and places unrealistic expectations upon you. So, even though I am here for work, I am going to do my best enjoy the temporary change of scenery and take full advantage of my little dip into luxury. And the turn-down service. And my marble bathroom. I'm not going to eat the chocolate on my pillows though.
I'm also going to take it upon myself to get back in the driver's seat and start navigating some of the (inevitable) changes in my life. Last week, change was thrust upon me in the form of news that Captain Awesome may have to change his schedule to one that doesn't include driving across town at 4:30 am to open the gym. Some hooey about grad school and I'll admit, I reacted badly to the information. Not in a throwing-a-fit kind of way....more in a sitting at the lat pull with my arms on the bar but staring vacantly into space for 20 minutes kind of way. I spent the rest of the day in a bit of a fog until I worked out a solution. Well, until I worked out my second solution, the first one being to somehow hide him away to a hypnotist where he was reprogrammed to believe that he could train me and only me for the rest of his career. But seeing that I only get an hour for lunch and usually spend that in Pilates, it just wasn't practical to think I could pull that off anytime soon. So I reverted to Plan B, which was to suck it up and deal.
That news, on top of some other things I would have rather not experienced over the span of three days, called for a time-out. I kind of believe that when a lot of bad things start happening all at one time, it means I need to step back and regroup. Obviously something was off, and the common denominator was me. So I took myself out of the equation. I pressed pause on myself.
I came to the Ritz.
Well, first I went to church. I sat alone in the quiet and listened to a message reminding me that I have never truly been left without a plan. I've never actually had the bottom fall out. I've always made it through, something always worked out, and it would this time too if I would just get out of my own damn way.
Then I came to the Ritz.
I'm out of my box, forced out of my routine. I have a new gym facing me, and more time than usual to workout each morning. I have solitude and quiet. I can work hard and focus and move this ship forward without the usual static of my everyday life.
And when I return, I will have three months left to train. I've mapped out a new schedule, had it blessed by Awesome, and am ready to get back to building up the callouses on my hands.
But first there is a down comforter calling my name.