My extrovert husband is in sales, bless his heart. If my introverted self had to make sales calls for a living, I would be curled up in the fetal position, hiding under my desk, rocking back and forth for comfort. For some odd reason, his competitive side loves the challenge.
The life of a sales person’s spouse is an interesting one. You’ll find your significant other traveling and entertaining, exhausting themselves while earning an income that is either feast or famine. You frequently have to offer them condolences about failed deals and stagnant careers, only to find out that they have indeed met their sales quota and qualified last minute for their annual sales club vacation, requiring you to squeeze yourself into a bikini in February with little to no warning.
Sometimes politics or economics take over, and there is no sales club event in a given year. Other years, you hit the jackpot and get to go. It’s funny to endure 360 days of career roller coaster annually, only to unconditionally forgive your spouse’s employer during the 5 days a year when you’re sitting on the beach together. But what can I say, if a free beach vacation is offered, my answer is a resounding ‘Hell Yes’ and ‘Thank You’.
This year’s trip is Mexico, and serendipitously, it falls during a rest week in my training plan! I love when the stars align. According to my plan, I only have to clock 40 miles of running during the trip, the longest of which is 14 miles. Sure, no problem.
Last time I went to Mexico on vacation, the beaches were all private, meaning the minute you tried to leave the patch of sandy paradise in front of your resort, the security guards stopped you and asked where you were staying. This promptly determined whether you were allowed to walk upon the next patch of sandy paradise.
This scenario would leave me approximately 200 feet of beachfront in which to run my 14 miles (how many laps is that?). My other option might be to climb over the enormous resort gates that lock out the actual experience of authentic local Mexican culture from the resort goers. Nope, too risky. Let’s hope there’s a treadmill in the air conditioned resort gym.
Regardless, I’m incredibly excited to soak up some sun, and the change of scenery will do my training some good, regardless of how many miles I am realistically able to squeeze in.
I plan on relaxing, enjoying the beach, and studying my handy little Mexican Spanish phrasebook, which conveniently has a whole section on how to request vegetarian & special meals. It should be fun attempting high-maintenance restaurant orders in another language.