Today was my first brick since before St. Anthony’s….and lawd, was it was obvious.
Now, I didn’t start out in the best of conditions – last night, we had a couple of people over (i.e., a little too much to drink..), and I woke up feeling the drums in my head. Not big huge drums, but little ones. Knowing better than to squeeze life and fun into the hours outside of triathlon training, I ignored my better instincts…. and the ride was a testament to the prior night’s fun.
The Expert and I knocked down thirty-four miles in about 2:15:00. I did 40 miles two weeks ago in 2:23:00… so there you go. Kinda crummy.
About eight miles left in the ride, this dude on a mountain bike and a red jersey tore past me, screeching “left!” Ugh. Might as well have been a beach cruiser. I was dragging.
The Expert yells to me: “You gonna let him punk you like that?” Well, now that you mention it… no…. So, off I went. 17. 21. 23. 24. 25 mph. Oh, then 26. I saw him coming up ahead, so I scream, “On your left!” and tear past Mountain Man, and keep going.
Fun, but I totally wasted my legs. Ooops. Temporary insanity. I forgot I had to run.
“Run” is always a funny term for me. I’m not sure moving forward at a pace of old ladies at lunch constitutes actual “running.” But for the sake of simplicity, we’ll allege that I ran
three miles. The Expert and I were sweating like crazy, and it was hotter than hell outside. Luckily the trail was pretty shaded, but even still. Rough and slow. Three miles.
In the car on the way home, the Expert said, “I like to look at the ground when I run.”
I look at him, “Why?”
“Because,” he said, “if I look ahead of me, at how far I have to go, I just get sad. So if I stare at the ground, then I am fine.”
“You know that’s terrible form, right?“
“What’s worse? Looking at the ground….or laying on the ground?“
,” I say.
This week coming up is recovery week. I had a pretty hard (but successful) workout week – lots of little victories: 9 mile run, 2 mile swim and a successful brick. A little recovery is just what the doctor ordered, though.
Check out this post-brick photo. Tired, sweaty and so very, very hungry. (And no, I’m not blowing kisses… I’m sucking wind.)
Yes, Swim Bike Klutz may have survived another successful, fall-free outing. However, as I was doing laundry a few minutes ago, I leaned over to get something out of the dryer. I had rested my hand on the washer, and the lid to the washer came crashing down on my pinkie finger. Black and blue instantly. I am so cool, there are no words.