Comet Crushed!

The last time I went to the Silver Comet Trail (back in September) for a ride, things didn’t go so well for me.

I had taken the old G-Force bike out where I proceeded to fall twice: Total crash-o-la. But not any real heroic or “cool” crashes. Super lame crashes. I mean “crash” as in both times getting stuck in my clips at road crossings. And screeching, “oh noooo” and then eating the pavement. I might as well been wearing a sign on my back that say, “Idiot rider. No idea what I’m doing.”  Back then on that ride, I had thrown down somewhere around sixteen extremely painful miles and called it a day.

This time was different.  Thank God.

First of all, old squeaky G-Force is a thing of the past. Antonia, beautiful Antonia is my bike companion.

Man, it was a beautiful morning to be on a bike. I pulled Antonia out of the car at 8:00 on the dot.  After a few technical adjustments, I was off.

No falls, no spills, no fear factors.  Just sweet, beautiful riding.  And comfortable riding.  I love my bike, my saddle is a lifesaver.  The Silver Comet Trail is mostly flat with small (sissy) gradual inclines, but absolutely no hills.  Momma needed a win today, after the workouts I’ve had lately.  I decided that flat road was the deal.

Oh, and I forgot to mention that today was a brick.

So after twenty-six miles on the bike, I stopped my Garmin, reset it… and then four minutes later, I was running out on the trail. Brick, baby, brick.

I started out steady, and quickly I ached everywhere.  Who knew that running straight off a bike would be so challenging.  That is a part of triathlon that never ceases to amaze me.   My legs are going round and round and circle, and then suddenly, I’m running.  And my body usually offers up a good solid “WTH” in revolt.

I found a slow, steady rhythm, and pretty soon, I had run out three miles on the trail.  Oooops.  The run was supposed to be four miles, total.  Rats.  I figured out pretty quickly that I would be running six.

I turned around and headed back.  Around mile four and a half, my body started seriously cursing me.  My iPod battery died.  It was just me, a pair of jelly legs and the sound of me sucking pollen-filled air.  At mile five, I was toast.  I walked for a quarter mile, then squeezed out the final push with a run so slow… could be called “walk.”

But whoop, there it is.  And I was finished.  A successful 26 mile bike, 6 mile run brick. The Comet was crushed!  Okay. Maybe not.  Obviously, I’m not breaking any world records with a 1:40 bike, and a 1:12 run. But I did cover 2/3 of the distance of St. Anthony’s (minus the swim only).

And afterwards, I was covered in a fine layer of self-made salt.

Three weeks from today, I hope to report successful Oly distance race results from St. Petersburg.  Wish me luck.  Yes, please start now.  I think luck for three weeks is necessary.

Have a great week, friends!