Live. Deal. Dream. Repeat.

I studied much of the day today for an exam tomorrow. In the "Learning Center" where I lay my scene (ahem...study papers), I managed to snag the one of the coveted Study Rooms. The one I shot for, in particular has an open view to the outdoor pool beyond. It's hydro-motivational to see people frolicking around in a liquid I now adore (allow me to clarify: I have always adored hydration and bathing, but my "adoration" in this case refers to the pool-or more specifically its contents-before I could manage more than one lap without gasping).
I study with the goal of achieving specific ratio hour cycles broken down as: 50 minutes of brain stress to 10 minutes of brain diversion. This ratio has lasted me through my scholastic years into college and beyond. During those mystical ten-minute breaks, I refill my jug-o-water, use the urinal, don my cape and save the world...anything to "reset" my curious mind in hopes that it will be curious about the same thing it was learning 15 minutes ago.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Then there is the excitement of nearing the end and ending just such a round. Today, mine was the pool. I worked on form and attempted to incorporate technique-change drills which Sprinter mentioned. I felt an example of what I hope to be superior form, as compared with my previous attempts without such alterations. That's the key kids: employ yourself in a cycle of improvements (whether they work or not), then analyze and repeat. You're bound to get it right or die trying. I'd rather die trying than have lived knowing I never tried to improve.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Expansion of mind and your endeavors is the way of things that lead to adventure. Confusion, winning, losing, staying strong...these are added bonuses.

Triathlon makes me stronger in soooooooo many ways. But it also makes me weaker. As I came out of the pool, there was this bloke with nylon apparel and sweat indicating recent participation in a faster-than-walking pace. He held a pair of goggles by the straps in his right hand, iPod Nano strapped to his left bicep. It was 5:12, and the pool closed just a bakers-dozen-minus-one minutes ago. I allowed this information to pass between us. He dropped his shoulders and mentioned "Shit." I told him the "pool hours of operation" and he slumped a "Roger" in response.
I can tell you (my lovely reader) how much I concur with his singularly piercing feeling of frustration/anger/confusion. When I plan things to go a certain way and they don't, I take a major hit, just as this Poshrunnerdude did.
So it goes like this, in the first sentence I admitted to being a veritable machine. In the second a pulp. But truth is, my exercise plan dictates what I think should be happening, and if I can't follow it to a T due to one thing or another (freak pool closings, deflating bike tire, etc), I'm livid!
Next the "lividity" fades just under a bakers-dozen-minus-one seconds later, and I realize the possibilities of cross training, regain my composure, and gently tear my body apart in an exciting albeit unplanned manner. The beauty of resilience and improvisation shall not be underestimated as a core virtue of the human character. Live. Deal. Dream. Repeat.