Dana has had enough of Ironman talk. She is done with the anxiety about finishing, the distance, the myriad problems that can crop up on race day from cramps to crashing.
I am fixated. Spare moments lead to stray thoughts about the race. Increasingly, my schedule is wrapped around training and this has a direct impact on household schedules.
We don’t have a problem with resentment or jealousy or other destructive dynamics. I think she is just fed up with me being a big wuss.
Life is hard. Life in a family is even more difficult. Life in a family that has to accommodate Ironman — ugh.