So, I was bound and determined to get a 30-30-30 in - finally - on Wednesday. I took my Magic Pants to work, the sleeve, a Stinger (from Beth's collection), goggles, and shoes and - even though I was supposed to meet Joe for Wednesday Night Baseball, after the swim the previous night, I knew I was just going to do it.
I drove from work directly to the gym, got there at the top of the hour, changed, stretched lightly, and headed to the pool. Hardly anyone was around, so I got my pick of lanes. I stretched a little more, dipped my hand into the water, and then ... started. I dove in and had a few good dolphin kicks, resurfaced, and started nice and slow. One length down then two. My legs felt tired from last night's swim, but soon enough the cobwebs were kicked loose and I was going. Three and four and five and I barely felt winded. Six came, and I flipped over onto my back for a length of backstroke at seven. That done, my shoulders were sore from last night, too - so I flipped back into a crawl for #8, #9, and #10.
I was tired, and thought about flipping into a crawl. But no. Technically, #11 would be my final length come race day, and I wasn't going to end on back stroke. So I kept going. The dolphin kicks on the turns were going pretty well, too, and I was proud of that. So #11 came and went and I headed into the last length. The twelfth was strong. I didn't want to blow it out and die in the middle of my last event, but I was good to go. I put my head down, and switched to 4s, which made me go a little faster to get to the breath at the end. And then I was done.
I bobbed in the pool for a couple of seconds, a little dazed, and then told my self - you prolly can't do this on Sunday. So I climbed the ladder, got out, and made my way into the locker room. Twenty minutes to change and do the swim.
The great thing about the tri shorts is ... no changing. I toweled off and got mostly dry, and put on my shirt, pulled on my socks and shoes and then ... realized two things. One, I had forgotten to put my calf sleeve on, and two, I had forgotten my iPhone with the C25k app. I took off my shoe and pulled the sleeve on, and figured - I had already wasted enough time in this transition, I would run out to the car after the bike and grab my Android.
I grabbed the Stinger, jammed it in a pocket, went up to the video bike, adjusted it, and hopped on. I wanted a better, more life-like workout than the other night, so I chose "Race Day" and cued it up for 35 minutes, and started. I knew it was going to be a little different when the program exhorted me to go up to heavy resistance. I ignored it. Not ready yet. I got into a groove pretty quickly, waited before getting into a standing climb, and then started to follow the program a bit better - standing climbs, jacking up the resistance, etc. By about halfway through, I could feel my legs getting tired. So I pulled out the Stinger, ripped the top open, and gulped about half of it down.
It was interesting. Definitely honey - but something else kinda malty, too. And maybe it was because it had been in the car all day, but it was pretty liquidy, too. The gulp was more of a gush, really. I sucked the rest of the Stinger out, and kept going to make sure I had all of it that I could get, before stuffing it back into my pocket.
Maybe it was psychosomatic, but I felt like I could feel the lift after a minute or so. My legs weren't as tired anymore and things got easier. I was a little disappointed, though, that it didn't last longer. By the time the ride was almost done, I could feel my legs getting tired again, and I started thinking - how am I ever going to do this run? Maybe I need a second Stinger.
I got done with the bike, and then briskly walked out to the car, grabbed my phone, and realized - I had deleted the C25k app because it was so sucky. Fumbled through the process of re-downloading, and realized my calf was starting to get tight. Stretched it out a little, cued up the right week, and was relieved that it was 10 minutes of running, 3 of walking, and 10 running. So I started off on my warm-up, mostly to make sure that leg was good and loose. After about three minutes I thought - screw it, let's just finish this thing up. And started my jog.
I've never been so happy that I was only going 5mph. I think during the run I bumped it up some, but by the end - back down at 5mph. And you know, as I said earlier - I want to so be at 6mph. But maybe 5mph isn't so bad. That's 12 minute miles, and if I do that - especially after the swimming and biking - coming in somewhere over 36 minutes isn't too bad ... is it?
My calf did start to tighten up, but the sleeve kept it in pretty good control. It was a struggle the last few minutes, but not like the other times I ran. I was tired, and I felt it, but I didn't need to call on any inspiration to get through it, like that twenty minute run last week. All in all, it was a great feeling of accomplishment. So I celebrated by going to Fieldhouse and having a couple of beers and watching baseball games that I didn't really care about.
Beth is away this weekend, and I have a Ghost Tour and work Mobtown - but I'm hoping a I get to do this again before the 7th....
Jul 27, 2011
Jul 26, 2011
The Sweat Factory
So, Friday the plan was to go in early to work, come home and work from home (while simultaneously doing stuff to get ready to go to the beach), and then head down. But by the time Beth made it home, I was nowhere near ready to go. I still had to do two more sets of minutes, and then throw my backpack in the car, and get the bike rack, my bike, and the bike my brother had given me on the car. So Beth took off without me, and I worked a 9 hour day....
The further plan had been to make it down to the beach in time to do something on Friday - most likely, with the heat, a good, quick swim. I finally made it down to Milton around 7:30 or so, and met up with everyone at Po'Boys. It was steaming hot outside, it was steaming hot in the restaurant, and I found out when I talked to Beth, the Usuals, and Matt and Jen that it was a toasty 88 degrees when they had left for dinner. We made it back to the house around 9 or so, and it had cooled off to 84 inside, A/C chugging away. Mucked around, went to bed not too late, and got a solid amount of sleep.
Saturday we putzed around for most of the morning, and had Dogfish Head tour tickets at 12:30. We made it over there, enjoyed ourselves with samples, bought some stuff, and then went to the Broadkill Boat House for a great lunch (I had the calamari boathouse tacos) with Matt and Jen, the Usuals, and Kori and Larry.
We were on the beach by 4:30, I think. Going into the water was weird. It was obvious that the water wasn't really much cooler than the ambient air temperature - it just felt like walking into jello that was pretty much the same as the air. Clearly, the water was 85+. BUT, you weren't sweating your balls off - so who cared? We floated around for awhile in the water, until someone said, "How's the tri training going? Swim down to that buoy. It was one of the buoys that served as an anchor-place for a boat that would come in there, and was about 50 yards away or so. So... I did. Made it back and didn't feel much the worse for wear. I splashed around for a couple minutes longer, and then thought - oh, screw it - might as well get that workout in.
I took off for the far jetty. Now I should say that one of the things about swimming in the bay down there is that I find I have to stop every so often to make sure I'm now about to hit a buoy, the boat, the gaggle of other swimmers, the rocks of the jetty, etc. - and that I'm not drifting out to sea. I try not to touch - just sorta tread water for like two seconds until I can get my bearings. So when I say "I made it all the way down" - the caveat is - I stopped a couple of times to look around. But I made it the 100 yards or so, turned around and backstroked for awhile.
I made it past the boat - maybe 50 yards? - and my arms hurt and I felt like I had a decent breath. So I turned back around and crawled the rest of the way. I turned around immediately, and crawled the 100 yards back down the beach. Again flipped to a back stroke and went past the boat and finished with a crawl. 400 yards by my reckoning, 100 of that back stroke.
We got out and went about the rest of the day. Tony grilled up some good chicken and corn, we watched Iron Man 2. And I had every intention of getting up at 7:30 to try a 30-30-30 (30 minutes of swimming, 30 of biking, and 30 of running.)
But at a little after 7:00 it was already 82 degrees, and by 7:30 it was 83 degrees, and the prospect of doing running 8:30-9:00 as the mercury climbed did not excite me. And indeed, another fairly hot day. We spent it on the beach - and the water was colder - but by a little after 1, there was some strong thunderstorm activity in the area. So.... that was an end to swimming. We ate lunch and wiled away the afternoon watching as two lines of thundershowers blow through. Everyone slowly packed up and left. I was last to leave, and entertained thoughts of pulling my bike off and going for a last minute bike ride as the temperature had dropped to a more sane mid-80s around 3:30 after the storms blew through. But that didn't happen. So, I packed up and went home, never having tried my tri shorts or calf sleeve out, but with a good swim under my belt.
I should mention now that I figured something out in that 400+ yards of swimming. This was getting easy. And I felt like I had a real good power stroke if I made sure I was bringing my arms through and brushing my thighs as I followed through. Maybe it did something for my form, maybe it did something to focus my mind on some repetitive motion. But I really started thinking - I can swim all day like this.
Monday promised to be another scorcher. And I woke up feeling like crap - achey all over, all out of sorts, just not good. There was no way I could even face going in to my 80+ degree cube, so I called in to work from home. Did my work, made dinner, and at 8:00 figured a brick was in order. I grabbed my new tri shorts, put 'em on, pulled the calf sleeve over my left calf and headed off.
Beth had already spurred me to action by telling me that, in her bike ride (executed while she recovers from some muscle strain in her glute), she had managed 12 miles in 35 minutes. I was jealous as hell. "And," she added, "I kept it right in the 130 beats per minute zone." Now, all of my experience had suggested that the 12 miles/20km was going to take me an hour. At the beach - on flat ground, going at it pretty aggressively - it was taking me half an hour to go the 6 miles from Alabama to the park. How was she besting me? "Well," she said, "I'm probably not going any where near as high a gear as you are."
I will admit that I'm most comfortable in 2.5 or 2.6. And - to me - most of the 3 gears feel a lot less taxing than 2.6. So... I'm used to going pretty high. But this was just not ... acceptable. I started to feel bad. If she can get on a bike and DOUBLE MY SPEED, meeting my max speed (22-23mph) - I was kinda screwed.
So I scampered to the gym, tri shorts strapped on, jumped on a bike, and knocked off 20km (a bit over 12 miles) in around 27 minutes. Now, I'm not kidding myself. I feel like there are calibration problems. The exercise bike is also inside, no stop signs, no wind resistance, no inclines.... But that felt pretty good.
I went from there to the treadmill (still too hot outside!), and started week 6 run 1 in the C25K program: warmup (cut short because I was ready to GO!), 5 minute run, 3 minute walk, 8 minute run, 3 minute walk, 5 minute run, cool down. I gotta say: easy peasy. I was only going at 5mph. My calf was feeling tight, but the sleeve really felt like it was keeping things in line. Again - no headphones, just trying to run low and loose. And the tri shorts - good god! I felt superhuman. Maybe it was the sleeve - but it was like wearing armor at +5 CON or something! All in all, a good strong night.
So, Tuesday.... My plan initially was to get home early and swim before going to the Board Meeting for Mobtown. I made it in early, got through a Steering Committee meeting where I asked for a 5010 extension and got it, and left around 4:30. At the gym at 5:00 though, all the lanes were taken. I came home, made dinner, and took off around 6:00. The Board Meeting went longer than anyone anticipated - I got out of there at 8:30, and was in a semi-panic. I double-checked pool times, and Merrit closes the pool at 10, so I was good. I raced down to the gym, pulled on the Magic Tri Shorts, stretched a little, and then headed out to the pool.
I just jumped in and started swimming. And man what a good swim. I crawled two lengths and felt good, barely winded, crawled 3, 4, 5, 6! Six lengths before I was feeling a little out of breath - half my customary twelve! I turned on my back and backstroked 7 & 8 until my shoulders started to bark. Flipped and did two more (9 & 10) before I had to stop. I stood there sucking major wind, and prolly pulled a dozen breaths or so. And that was all I needed. Caught my breath in those few seconds and thought - well, let's go for it. Dove back in (my dolphin kicks were getting a little ragged and shallow at this point), and snapped off the last two lengths.
I FELT GREAT!
As I drove home, I knew there would have to be a way I could do a 30-30-30 on Wednesday....
The further plan had been to make it down to the beach in time to do something on Friday - most likely, with the heat, a good, quick swim. I finally made it down to Milton around 7:30 or so, and met up with everyone at Po'Boys. It was steaming hot outside, it was steaming hot in the restaurant, and I found out when I talked to Beth, the Usuals, and Matt and Jen that it was a toasty 88 degrees when they had left for dinner. We made it back to the house around 9 or so, and it had cooled off to 84 inside, A/C chugging away. Mucked around, went to bed not too late, and got a solid amount of sleep.
Saturday we putzed around for most of the morning, and had Dogfish Head tour tickets at 12:30. We made it over there, enjoyed ourselves with samples, bought some stuff, and then went to the Broadkill Boat House for a great lunch (I had the calamari boathouse tacos) with Matt and Jen, the Usuals, and Kori and Larry.
We were on the beach by 4:30, I think. Going into the water was weird. It was obvious that the water wasn't really much cooler than the ambient air temperature - it just felt like walking into jello that was pretty much the same as the air. Clearly, the water was 85+. BUT, you weren't sweating your balls off - so who cared? We floated around for awhile in the water, until someone said, "How's the tri training going? Swim down to that buoy. It was one of the buoys that served as an anchor-place for a boat that would come in there, and was about 50 yards away or so. So... I did. Made it back and didn't feel much the worse for wear. I splashed around for a couple minutes longer, and then thought - oh, screw it - might as well get that workout in.
I took off for the far jetty. Now I should say that one of the things about swimming in the bay down there is that I find I have to stop every so often to make sure I'm now about to hit a buoy, the boat, the gaggle of other swimmers, the rocks of the jetty, etc. - and that I'm not drifting out to sea. I try not to touch - just sorta tread water for like two seconds until I can get my bearings. So when I say "I made it all the way down" - the caveat is - I stopped a couple of times to look around. But I made it the 100 yards or so, turned around and backstroked for awhile.
I made it past the boat - maybe 50 yards? - and my arms hurt and I felt like I had a decent breath. So I turned back around and crawled the rest of the way. I turned around immediately, and crawled the 100 yards back down the beach. Again flipped to a back stroke and went past the boat and finished with a crawl. 400 yards by my reckoning, 100 of that back stroke.
We got out and went about the rest of the day. Tony grilled up some good chicken and corn, we watched Iron Man 2. And I had every intention of getting up at 7:30 to try a 30-30-30 (30 minutes of swimming, 30 of biking, and 30 of running.)
But at a little after 7:00 it was already 82 degrees, and by 7:30 it was 83 degrees, and the prospect of doing running 8:30-9:00 as the mercury climbed did not excite me. And indeed, another fairly hot day. We spent it on the beach - and the water was colder - but by a little after 1, there was some strong thunderstorm activity in the area. So.... that was an end to swimming. We ate lunch and wiled away the afternoon watching as two lines of thundershowers blow through. Everyone slowly packed up and left. I was last to leave, and entertained thoughts of pulling my bike off and going for a last minute bike ride as the temperature had dropped to a more sane mid-80s around 3:30 after the storms blew through. But that didn't happen. So, I packed up and went home, never having tried my tri shorts or calf sleeve out, but with a good swim under my belt.
I should mention now that I figured something out in that 400+ yards of swimming. This was getting easy. And I felt like I had a real good power stroke if I made sure I was bringing my arms through and brushing my thighs as I followed through. Maybe it did something for my form, maybe it did something to focus my mind on some repetitive motion. But I really started thinking - I can swim all day like this.
Monday promised to be another scorcher. And I woke up feeling like crap - achey all over, all out of sorts, just not good. There was no way I could even face going in to my 80+ degree cube, so I called in to work from home. Did my work, made dinner, and at 8:00 figured a brick was in order. I grabbed my new tri shorts, put 'em on, pulled the calf sleeve over my left calf and headed off.
Beth had already spurred me to action by telling me that, in her bike ride (executed while she recovers from some muscle strain in her glute), she had managed 12 miles in 35 minutes. I was jealous as hell. "And," she added, "I kept it right in the 130 beats per minute zone." Now, all of my experience had suggested that the 12 miles/20km was going to take me an hour. At the beach - on flat ground, going at it pretty aggressively - it was taking me half an hour to go the 6 miles from Alabama to the park. How was she besting me? "Well," she said, "I'm probably not going any where near as high a gear as you are."
I will admit that I'm most comfortable in 2.5 or 2.6. And - to me - most of the 3 gears feel a lot less taxing than 2.6. So... I'm used to going pretty high. But this was just not ... acceptable. I started to feel bad. If she can get on a bike and DOUBLE MY SPEED, meeting my max speed (22-23mph) - I was kinda screwed.
So I scampered to the gym, tri shorts strapped on, jumped on a bike, and knocked off 20km (a bit over 12 miles) in around 27 minutes. Now, I'm not kidding myself. I feel like there are calibration problems. The exercise bike is also inside, no stop signs, no wind resistance, no inclines.... But that felt pretty good.
I went from there to the treadmill (still too hot outside!), and started week 6 run 1 in the C25K program: warmup (cut short because I was ready to GO!), 5 minute run, 3 minute walk, 8 minute run, 3 minute walk, 5 minute run, cool down. I gotta say: easy peasy. I was only going at 5mph. My calf was feeling tight, but the sleeve really felt like it was keeping things in line. Again - no headphones, just trying to run low and loose. And the tri shorts - good god! I felt superhuman. Maybe it was the sleeve - but it was like wearing armor at +5 CON or something! All in all, a good strong night.
So, Tuesday.... My plan initially was to get home early and swim before going to the Board Meeting for Mobtown. I made it in early, got through a Steering Committee meeting where I asked for a 5010 extension and got it, and left around 4:30. At the gym at 5:00 though, all the lanes were taken. I came home, made dinner, and took off around 6:00. The Board Meeting went longer than anyone anticipated - I got out of there at 8:30, and was in a semi-panic. I double-checked pool times, and Merrit closes the pool at 10, so I was good. I raced down to the gym, pulled on the Magic Tri Shorts, stretched a little, and then headed out to the pool.
I just jumped in and started swimming. And man what a good swim. I crawled two lengths and felt good, barely winded, crawled 3, 4, 5, 6! Six lengths before I was feeling a little out of breath - half my customary twelve! I turned on my back and backstroked 7 & 8 until my shoulders started to bark. Flipped and did two more (9 & 10) before I had to stop. I stood there sucking major wind, and prolly pulled a dozen breaths or so. And that was all I needed. Caught my breath in those few seconds and thought - well, let's go for it. Dove back in (my dolphin kicks were getting a little ragged and shallow at this point), and snapped off the last two lengths.
I FELT GREAT!
As I drove home, I knew there would have to be a way I could do a 30-30-30 on Wednesday....
Jul 21, 2011
We're Having a Heat Wave
At 9:30 tonight - on my way home from the gym - my car said it was 92 degrees. Today was just a sauna - something like 100, with a heat index over 115.
To make matters worse, the air conditioner at work is broken, so I am spending sweltering days in my cube. I was happy yesterday that the heat didn't get above 80 degrees. Today it was rubbing 82. I left a little early. Tomorrow I'm going to go in for a standup meeting, and then come home - where my air conditioner works - before leaving for a weekend at the BBC with the Usual Suspects and Matt and Jen. It appears to be a little better down there - merely topping out in the mid to high 90s. And the air conditioner at the BBC is a little weak, too. Great.
So - listless from all the heat - we ordered sushi from Chiu's, and about 8 something I figured - this was my best chance to go to the gym and get a run in. Because as much as I might want to 30-30-30, that might not happen if morning temps are in the 80s at the beach....
I was already resigned to redoing the last run. It called for 20 minutes non-stop and I couldn't do it. I had to stop for 3 minutes after 10 minutes of running. So I wanted to do it this time - run for a solid 20 minutes. I got in my car and looked at the C25K app and saw Week 6 started off with a run 5 - walk 3 - run 8 - walk 3 - run 5. Definitely doable - but I wanted that challenge. I wanted to get that 20 minute straight run in, dammit!
Went upstairs to the treadmills, stretched, and did the same as last run - not wired in to anything, just propped the C25K app up on the treadmill, did my 5 minute walk warmup, and then dialed it up to 5mph, and went for it - keeping my arms low and loose. The first five minutes practically flew by. I had a little tightness in the bad left calf, but nothing bad. The second 5 was a little more effort. The leg tightened up a little more, and it felt like I was never going to get out of the 13 minute zone.
I hit the halfway point and was like, I can do this! I got it licked! Somewhere after the 10 minute mark my calf loosened up a little, and then went sort tingly and numb - didn't hurt, didn't pop, but it was kinda strange. That 3rd 5 minutes wasn't bad either, but near the end, it was feeling long and was taking some effort, and I had to call on a little inspiration.
The last five minutes was ... interesting. My calf was numb - so I wasn't worried it would pop, but it did give me some concern. I was a little labored, but generally okay. I didn't seriously think I needed to quit - I entertained the idea, but it was relatively easy to go - nah, just keep going. But my GOD, it seemed that half the run was in that last 5 minutes. The time just wasn't moving. I was stuck on 4 minutes, and 3 minutes, and 2 minutes. And then I kinda started to struggle. But I was bound and determined to get this 20 in.
I looked up for most of the last minute - I don't think I saw it go to :59. But by the time I looked down - I was at the last 10 seconds. Good feeling!
So, here's the thing. I really want to do 6mph+. It's a small goal, but I feel like that puts me in striking distance of an under 30 minute 5k. It's still slow, but it's kind of this psychological thing. When I started running again earlier this spring, I was whipping off 6.5mph to 6.7mph, and it felt natural and it felt good. Granted, that was for short time periods. But I was proud of that pace.
But I just haven't been able to sustain it. Since I started recording this stuff - 6+ is just too fast for me; I burn out early and the rest of the run is a struggle to catch air. I've dropped to 5.5mph, thinking I could push it later in the run. But like the last run, I couldn't even do that - I bottomed out at 10 minutes running 5.5mph.
So, I tried 5mph and it was okay. So maybe that's my pace. Which is kinda depressing. That's a 12 minute mile - which puts me at 36 minutes plus for a 5k. Hell, my Thanksgiving run was better than that and I ran a crappy race that day and was all over the place. But maybe that's what my pace is. After all, my goal - as I told someone today - is to a) survive and b) finish. No time goals, I just want to go out there and finish the tri.....
And run a 6+....
So I came home and pulled Beth's roller out and did a little rolling on my calf. Still a little wonky feeling, but I think I worked a little something out of it. Tomorrow it's to the beach, and I'm not sure what exercise I'm going to get in - maybe some evening swimming? But - if the heat cooperates - I really want to try a 30-30-30 Sunday morning.
To make matters worse, the air conditioner at work is broken, so I am spending sweltering days in my cube. I was happy yesterday that the heat didn't get above 80 degrees. Today it was rubbing 82. I left a little early. Tomorrow I'm going to go in for a standup meeting, and then come home - where my air conditioner works - before leaving for a weekend at the BBC with the Usual Suspects and Matt and Jen. It appears to be a little better down there - merely topping out in the mid to high 90s. And the air conditioner at the BBC is a little weak, too. Great.
So - listless from all the heat - we ordered sushi from Chiu's, and about 8 something I figured - this was my best chance to go to the gym and get a run in. Because as much as I might want to 30-30-30, that might not happen if morning temps are in the 80s at the beach....
I was already resigned to redoing the last run. It called for 20 minutes non-stop and I couldn't do it. I had to stop for 3 minutes after 10 minutes of running. So I wanted to do it this time - run for a solid 20 minutes. I got in my car and looked at the C25K app and saw Week 6 started off with a run 5 - walk 3 - run 8 - walk 3 - run 5. Definitely doable - but I wanted that challenge. I wanted to get that 20 minute straight run in, dammit!
Went upstairs to the treadmills, stretched, and did the same as last run - not wired in to anything, just propped the C25K app up on the treadmill, did my 5 minute walk warmup, and then dialed it up to 5mph, and went for it - keeping my arms low and loose. The first five minutes practically flew by. I had a little tightness in the bad left calf, but nothing bad. The second 5 was a little more effort. The leg tightened up a little more, and it felt like I was never going to get out of the 13 minute zone.
I hit the halfway point and was like, I can do this! I got it licked! Somewhere after the 10 minute mark my calf loosened up a little, and then went sort tingly and numb - didn't hurt, didn't pop, but it was kinda strange. That 3rd 5 minutes wasn't bad either, but near the end, it was feeling long and was taking some effort, and I had to call on a little inspiration.
The last five minutes was ... interesting. My calf was numb - so I wasn't worried it would pop, but it did give me some concern. I was a little labored, but generally okay. I didn't seriously think I needed to quit - I entertained the idea, but it was relatively easy to go - nah, just keep going. But my GOD, it seemed that half the run was in that last 5 minutes. The time just wasn't moving. I was stuck on 4 minutes, and 3 minutes, and 2 minutes. And then I kinda started to struggle. But I was bound and determined to get this 20 in.
I looked up for most of the last minute - I don't think I saw it go to :59. But by the time I looked down - I was at the last 10 seconds. Good feeling!
So, here's the thing. I really want to do 6mph+. It's a small goal, but I feel like that puts me in striking distance of an under 30 minute 5k. It's still slow, but it's kind of this psychological thing. When I started running again earlier this spring, I was whipping off 6.5mph to 6.7mph, and it felt natural and it felt good. Granted, that was for short time periods. But I was proud of that pace.
But I just haven't been able to sustain it. Since I started recording this stuff - 6+ is just too fast for me; I burn out early and the rest of the run is a struggle to catch air. I've dropped to 5.5mph, thinking I could push it later in the run. But like the last run, I couldn't even do that - I bottomed out at 10 minutes running 5.5mph.
So, I tried 5mph and it was okay. So maybe that's my pace. Which is kinda depressing. That's a 12 minute mile - which puts me at 36 minutes plus for a 5k. Hell, my Thanksgiving run was better than that and I ran a crappy race that day and was all over the place. But maybe that's what my pace is. After all, my goal - as I told someone today - is to a) survive and b) finish. No time goals, I just want to go out there and finish the tri.....
And run a 6+....
So I came home and pulled Beth's roller out and did a little rolling on my calf. Still a little wonky feeling, but I think I worked a little something out of it. Tomorrow it's to the beach, and I'm not sure what exercise I'm going to get in - maybe some evening swimming? But - if the heat cooperates - I really want to try a 30-30-30 Sunday morning.
Jul 19, 2011
Well now
First, just let me say that I have no idea why - sometime this afternoon of July 19 - Google and Facebook decided to talk to each other and Facebook posted all of my recent blog entries as notes. Sorry if I spammed you. I'm looking at what happened and how to undo it, so the sordid details of my training don't interrupt your life.
Anyways - tonight was a bike and swim night, I had decided yesterday. I had experimented with some stuff this weekend and I wanted to see if it translated to laps of the pool.
View 2011-07-19 19:58 To Gym in a larger map
So, after dinner, I changed and got on the horse to make it down to the gym. And it sucked. The outside of my quads were not happy. Powering down Linwood felt like slogging through mud. I finally got the groove down on Boston. Overall, the trip took 10:14 with 7:45 of that moving; 1.46 miles with a moving speed of 11.27 mph, topping out at 19.45mph.
Locked up the bike, got inside, changed into swimsuit, and headed for the pool.... to find all the lanes taken and several of them doubled up. I figured, no problem, I'll do some stretching and then work on some of the breathing stuff I was sort of doing at BBC and wait for a lane to free up. And I did that - taking about 4 to 5 laps in the foreshortened end of the pool. If each length is 25 meters (and I just discovered something GOOD), then this was probably 20 meters or so? So, call it 80 meters of warmup.
And I was feeling pretty good. I realized that - taking it nice and easy - breathing every other stroke gave me a good amount of air, and kept me from going too fast. I even tried doing every three strokes - effectively switching breathing sides - and that wasn't too bad. It became more and more apparent that I really am comfortable with one side over the other, however. Breathing left was kind of like batting left; I can sort of do it, but it's all very intentional and obvious and doesn't look or feel natural. I tried moving my head side to side, but that didn't work nearly as well as when I was trying NOT to put my head under water.
A lane came open - the second lane, so pretty deep, but I didn't even care after the weekend - so I did my best Frogger impersonation and got into it (on the far end) and started.
The first length wasn't bad; I was breathing every other stroke, and going pretty slow. But man, by the second length.... I was getting tired. I rolled onto my back and did a back stroke for the 3rd length, and probably could have rolled back over and crawled for the 4th, but decided to go another length of back stroke. By then my shoulders were getting tired, so flipping over to the crawl felt good ... for a length. I tried mixing in some 4's and 3's, but I was tired and kind of burning by the time I hit 6 lengths. I took a breather, standing in the pool, and was kinda happy that I had made it 6 whole lengths without stopping, but disappointed I couldn't go more.
And then something kinda good happened. I was going to take a long break - like 5 minutes. But prolly about 2 minutes in, I had caught my breath, and I started feeling good. So, at prolly 3 minutes, I started up again with a crawl. And suddenly, the crappiness that was there for the first 6 lengths and 150 meters was gone, and I was swimming pretty well. I don't remember what my progression was, I think because I got into a groove. I know I flipped on my back and did two lengths of backstroke, but they were separate - so it might have been 7 & 8 were crawl, 9 was backstroke, 10 was crawl, and 11 was backstroke. Somewhere in there I damn near drowned myself on an errant backstroke that came up over my face, but for the most part - I was feeling pretty good.
And somewhere in the 10th length - that's when I got tired again. Really tired. Which is why I think 11 was backstroke. 10 was a struggle, but I was not going to backstroke the last lap. So I started 12 in the crawl. But I was off. My back half was dragging, weighing me down in the water. I thought maybe it was my breathing and tried going side to side and breathing every stroke, but that just made it worse. I was practically doing the doggy paddle. So I put my head down and started going every other stroke, but still didn't have a lot of power. I was getting beat by an older gentleman back stroking. So... I reared back, and powered through the rest of the length in 4, my lungs burning, my legs aching, nothing working the way I wanted it to. It was kind of a disappointment to finish weak like that. I got to the (far) end, and there was someone asking to share the lane. "Go ahead," I gasped, "I'm done." "Oh, you don't have to get out," she said. "No," I said, "I'm DONE."
View 2011-07-19 20:43 From Gym in a larger map
It was then that the old guy was like - "I'm done. You can use my lane." So she jumped into his lane, I think because it was shallower. So, I just stood there sucking wind, and after a minute or so I realized a) I was on the complete opposite end of the pool from my towel, and b) I didn't feel so bad. So, I figured rather than haul myself out of the pool or play Frogger to get to the shallow end and walk out and then walk all the way around the pool - I may as well swim another length.
So I did. And it was a good length. Dispensed with the side to side, just kept it simple with every other stroke, kept it slow, kept it strong, and finished up well. 13 lengths times 25 meters = 325 meters, plus 80 meters in warm-ups.
Got dressed, got back on the bike, and made it home in 8:32 of moving time, with an average 11.8mph over 1.7 miles, topping out at 23.4mph! Uphill, with a 225' elevation gain.
As I was writing this, though, I realized I had one of my stupid oversights - you know where you have all the information and somehow just completely don't put it together right? I knew the pool was in meters - 25 meters to a length. I knew the swim in the tri was in yards. So when putting it all together, what did I do? Transpose the meters to yards, and figured I needed to do 12 lengths (12*25=300) to get to 300 yards. But I don't. 300 yards translates to 274 meters, so I really only needed to do 11 lengths. Which means that really rotten 12th length didn't count. Though it also means I finished with a backstroke. But #12 & #13 were overtraining!
Anyways - tonight was a bike and swim night, I had decided yesterday. I had experimented with some stuff this weekend and I wanted to see if it translated to laps of the pool.
View 2011-07-19 19:58 To Gym in a larger map
So, after dinner, I changed and got on the horse to make it down to the gym. And it sucked. The outside of my quads were not happy. Powering down Linwood felt like slogging through mud. I finally got the groove down on Boston. Overall, the trip took 10:14 with 7:45 of that moving; 1.46 miles with a moving speed of 11.27 mph, topping out at 19.45mph.
Locked up the bike, got inside, changed into swimsuit, and headed for the pool.... to find all the lanes taken and several of them doubled up. I figured, no problem, I'll do some stretching and then work on some of the breathing stuff I was sort of doing at BBC and wait for a lane to free up. And I did that - taking about 4 to 5 laps in the foreshortened end of the pool. If each length is 25 meters (and I just discovered something GOOD), then this was probably 20 meters or so? So, call it 80 meters of warmup.
And I was feeling pretty good. I realized that - taking it nice and easy - breathing every other stroke gave me a good amount of air, and kept me from going too fast. I even tried doing every three strokes - effectively switching breathing sides - and that wasn't too bad. It became more and more apparent that I really am comfortable with one side over the other, however. Breathing left was kind of like batting left; I can sort of do it, but it's all very intentional and obvious and doesn't look or feel natural. I tried moving my head side to side, but that didn't work nearly as well as when I was trying NOT to put my head under water.
A lane came open - the second lane, so pretty deep, but I didn't even care after the weekend - so I did my best Frogger impersonation and got into it (on the far end) and started.
The first length wasn't bad; I was breathing every other stroke, and going pretty slow. But man, by the second length.... I was getting tired. I rolled onto my back and did a back stroke for the 3rd length, and probably could have rolled back over and crawled for the 4th, but decided to go another length of back stroke. By then my shoulders were getting tired, so flipping over to the crawl felt good ... for a length. I tried mixing in some 4's and 3's, but I was tired and kind of burning by the time I hit 6 lengths. I took a breather, standing in the pool, and was kinda happy that I had made it 6 whole lengths without stopping, but disappointed I couldn't go more.
And then something kinda good happened. I was going to take a long break - like 5 minutes. But prolly about 2 minutes in, I had caught my breath, and I started feeling good. So, at prolly 3 minutes, I started up again with a crawl. And suddenly, the crappiness that was there for the first 6 lengths and 150 meters was gone, and I was swimming pretty well. I don't remember what my progression was, I think because I got into a groove. I know I flipped on my back and did two lengths of backstroke, but they were separate - so it might have been 7 & 8 were crawl, 9 was backstroke, 10 was crawl, and 11 was backstroke. Somewhere in there I damn near drowned myself on an errant backstroke that came up over my face, but for the most part - I was feeling pretty good.
And somewhere in the 10th length - that's when I got tired again. Really tired. Which is why I think 11 was backstroke. 10 was a struggle, but I was not going to backstroke the last lap. So I started 12 in the crawl. But I was off. My back half was dragging, weighing me down in the water. I thought maybe it was my breathing and tried going side to side and breathing every stroke, but that just made it worse. I was practically doing the doggy paddle. So I put my head down and started going every other stroke, but still didn't have a lot of power. I was getting beat by an older gentleman back stroking. So... I reared back, and powered through the rest of the length in 4, my lungs burning, my legs aching, nothing working the way I wanted it to. It was kind of a disappointment to finish weak like that. I got to the (far) end, and there was someone asking to share the lane. "Go ahead," I gasped, "I'm done." "Oh, you don't have to get out," she said. "No," I said, "I'm DONE."
View 2011-07-19 20:43 From Gym in a larger map
It was then that the old guy was like - "I'm done. You can use my lane." So she jumped into his lane, I think because it was shallower. So, I just stood there sucking wind, and after a minute or so I realized a) I was on the complete opposite end of the pool from my towel, and b) I didn't feel so bad. So, I figured rather than haul myself out of the pool or play Frogger to get to the shallow end and walk out and then walk all the way around the pool - I may as well swim another length.
So I did. And it was a good length. Dispensed with the side to side, just kept it simple with every other stroke, kept it slow, kept it strong, and finished up well. 13 lengths times 25 meters = 325 meters, plus 80 meters in warm-ups.
Got dressed, got back on the bike, and made it home in 8:32 of moving time, with an average 11.8mph over 1.7 miles, topping out at 23.4mph! Uphill, with a 225' elevation gain.
As I was writing this, though, I realized I had one of my stupid oversights - you know where you have all the information and somehow just completely don't put it together right? I knew the pool was in meters - 25 meters to a length. I knew the swim in the tri was in yards. So when putting it all together, what did I do? Transpose the meters to yards, and figured I needed to do 12 lengths (12*25=300) to get to 300 yards. But I don't. 300 yards translates to 274 meters, so I really only needed to do 11 lengths. Which means that really rotten 12th length didn't count. Though it also means I finished with a backstroke. But #12 & #13 were overtraining!
Jul 18, 2011
Later, that same evening
It's been awhile, I know. Been more or less keeping up with the training, and a lot of stuff happening, but not enough time to write. And as time went by, I kept going - but I can't write about that. I have to go back to where I left off.... Meaning I haven't restarted in like two weeks.
So - I'm going to blog for tonight and go back and try to catch up real quick. I'll have to post date entries or something.
We got home from the BBC yesterday, and it had been a very full day. By 8 I was ready to go to bed - sunburned as I was - and just laid there with the AC and ceiling fan on, watched some Walking Dead, and then went to bed.
Woke up this morning, and my quads were pretty stiff and sore. Went through the day and they felt okay, but never really loose. Had an audit tonight and came home and made dinner, and really felt like crapping out for the night. But I didn't. I got dressed, and made my way down to the gym. Really didn't feel like the run, and felt less like it when I realized that it was a big jump up from this weekend 5.2 (8 min run, 5 min walk, 8 min run) to a 20 minute straight run. Got up on the treadmill and took it slow - 3.5mph 5 minute warmup, followed by 5.5mph to start, dropped down to 5.0 after 5 minutes.
At ten minutes, I couldn't continue. So I dialed it back down to 3.5mph walk and told myself I would do that for 5 minutes. After 3 minutes, I was feeling pretty good - so I started again. Five mph seemed too slow, so I started at 5.3 and that was nice and easy ... for a while. After about 5 minutes, I took a 30 second breather and dialed it back down to 5mph. With a minute left, another 10 second pause and then finished up.
Not the greatest, the whole thing was like 2.5 miles in 34 minutes, and I was disappointed I couldn't stick with the program. But I realized I am now further than I was the last time I embarked on the C25K program. I also tried something different tonight: I just ran. I didn't carry the iPhone, I didn't jack in, I just set it on the treadmill ledge so I could easily see the clock, and worked on keeping my hands low and loose and being comfortable. This last weekend I realized I was running tight. My hands with the iPhone were high, my shoulders were tensed.... I caught myself and went - whoa - you're at the beach - relax! I dropped my arms, loosened my hands, and the strides came a little easier and I finished okay - it wasn't such a struggle. So I tried to carry through with that tonight, reinforced by a guy I saw running when I drove in. He was loose, arms low, running easy, looked like he was kinda having fun - like it wasn't torture. So I figured, well - let's try that.... And you know it wasn't too bad.
So, on to tomorrow. I plan on doing some swimming, I think - prolly bike down and swim and bike back, and prepare for a run on Wednesday before hanging out with Joe and Ryan....
So - I'm going to blog for tonight and go back and try to catch up real quick. I'll have to post date entries or something.
We got home from the BBC yesterday, and it had been a very full day. By 8 I was ready to go to bed - sunburned as I was - and just laid there with the AC and ceiling fan on, watched some Walking Dead, and then went to bed.
Woke up this morning, and my quads were pretty stiff and sore. Went through the day and they felt okay, but never really loose. Had an audit tonight and came home and made dinner, and really felt like crapping out for the night. But I didn't. I got dressed, and made my way down to the gym. Really didn't feel like the run, and felt less like it when I realized that it was a big jump up from this weekend 5.2 (8 min run, 5 min walk, 8 min run) to a 20 minute straight run. Got up on the treadmill and took it slow - 3.5mph 5 minute warmup, followed by 5.5mph to start, dropped down to 5.0 after 5 minutes.
At ten minutes, I couldn't continue. So I dialed it back down to 3.5mph walk and told myself I would do that for 5 minutes. After 3 minutes, I was feeling pretty good - so I started again. Five mph seemed too slow, so I started at 5.3 and that was nice and easy ... for a while. After about 5 minutes, I took a 30 second breather and dialed it back down to 5mph. With a minute left, another 10 second pause and then finished up.
Not the greatest, the whole thing was like 2.5 miles in 34 minutes, and I was disappointed I couldn't stick with the program. But I realized I am now further than I was the last time I embarked on the C25K program. I also tried something different tonight: I just ran. I didn't carry the iPhone, I didn't jack in, I just set it on the treadmill ledge so I could easily see the clock, and worked on keeping my hands low and loose and being comfortable. This last weekend I realized I was running tight. My hands with the iPhone were high, my shoulders were tensed.... I caught myself and went - whoa - you're at the beach - relax! I dropped my arms, loosened my hands, and the strides came a little easier and I finished okay - it wasn't such a struggle. So I tried to carry through with that tonight, reinforced by a guy I saw running when I drove in. He was loose, arms low, running easy, looked like he was kinda having fun - like it wasn't torture. So I figured, well - let's try that.... And you know it wasn't too bad.
So, on to tomorrow. I plan on doing some swimming, I think - prolly bike down and swim and bike back, and prepare for a run on Wednesday before hanging out with Joe and Ryan....
Jul 10, 2011
A Lost Week
So, after the Big Swim at the BBC, things kinda went downhill.
We left the beach Tuesday afternoon around 2pm. Hit holiday traffic in Denton - as per usual. The Bridge wasn't too bad, but it was still after 5 by the time we got back, and by the time we pulled everything out of the car it was well into the evening. So, I had splashed around a little on the beach in the morning - but nothing real. So, Tuesday was a down day.
I had auditions for Epicoene on Wednesday, and was such a nervous wreck I scrapped the gym. Just no way to concentrate on working out when I was preoccupied with what needed to happen that evening, making sure I had everything, etc.
Thursday, I was ready to go. My plan was leave work a little early, get home and make a quick dinner, hit the gym, and scamper up to the theater. But life conspired against me. I left the office late - at like 6:15, and hit traffic. I immediately jettisoned all plans and went directly to the theater. And it again sucked; I don't know as anyone came that night....
Friday I was going up to Pennsylvania to meet Todd, Regan, Brehan, Connor, and Hayden at Knoebel's Grove. My plan was to get in early and leave work early - which I did. So early, in fact, that I didn't have anything ready to go. So I went home and packed, and then stopped by the smoke shop to pick up some Bad Boys for the weekend. Went through the back woods roads of Maryland to get from Franklin Blvd to I-83, and it was damn near 6 by that time. After a stop for the worst grilled chicken sandwich at Wendy's I have ever had, I got up to Elysburg a little after 9, restarted the fire, the gang met me at the site, the kids went to bed, and the men stayed up and drank and smoke until 2 AM, whereupon I blew up the air mattress in the back of the fit and crashed.
Knoebel's is a lot of fun. It was where my grandparents would take my brother and me whenever we would come up to visit them in Muncy. So many great memories. My friends Rick and Matt took an impromptu weekend camping trip there in the late spring of our senior year. It's no Disney, but it holds a real big place in my heart.
Saturday morning we went to the park - I got to take Bre while Todd took Connor. We came back to the camp site for lunch, and then went off to the pool/water slides. I ended up chasing Brehan and Hayden around in the shallow end of the pool for quite a bit of the afternoon. Got a little sunburned. I started actually trying to swim around. Not laps, but some solid strokes. But soon I could barely see my eyes hurt so bad from all the chlorine. Now wrestling in the water with a 5 and 7 year old takes a lot out of you, but I'm not sure I would call it a great work-out.
That night I got Connor and went to the kiddy part of the park. Amazing how all this stuff just bubbled out of my memory banks. There was a rocket ship slide thing - where you slid down this twisty slide on coconut fiber maps. I had totally forgotten about it until Connor demanded we go. And watching him carefully make sure he didn't hit anyone in the kiddy bumper cars may have been the highlight of the trip. We met up with everyone, rode the Flyer (which just dripped with nostalgia for me), and headed back to camp at 9:30, stopping for slushies and french fries.
Back at camp, the kids went to sleep, we stoked up the fire, Regan made a last minute 11pm beer run, and we stayed up until 3 AM before we packed it in for the night.
The next morning we packed up camp and left before 10 AM, I think. So, needless to say - on maybe 5 hours of sleep and 5 beers, I was not feeling great. Got back to civilization, hoping to feel better to do a 30-30-30 (30 minute swim, 30 minute bike, and 30 minute run), but it just was not to be.
So, there you have it. A lot of fun, but a totally lost week. I didn't do a damned thing from Tuesday until Sunday, unless you count splashing around in the huge pool on Saturday. (It's nearly two weeks later as I write this, and I'm still disappointed in myself.) It just shows how easy it it to get off track.
We left the beach Tuesday afternoon around 2pm. Hit holiday traffic in Denton - as per usual. The Bridge wasn't too bad, but it was still after 5 by the time we got back, and by the time we pulled everything out of the car it was well into the evening. So, I had splashed around a little on the beach in the morning - but nothing real. So, Tuesday was a down day.
I had auditions for Epicoene on Wednesday, and was such a nervous wreck I scrapped the gym. Just no way to concentrate on working out when I was preoccupied with what needed to happen that evening, making sure I had everything, etc.
Thursday, I was ready to go. My plan was leave work a little early, get home and make a quick dinner, hit the gym, and scamper up to the theater. But life conspired against me. I left the office late - at like 6:15, and hit traffic. I immediately jettisoned all plans and went directly to the theater. And it again sucked; I don't know as anyone came that night....
Friday I was going up to Pennsylvania to meet Todd, Regan, Brehan, Connor, and Hayden at Knoebel's Grove. My plan was to get in early and leave work early - which I did. So early, in fact, that I didn't have anything ready to go. So I went home and packed, and then stopped by the smoke shop to pick up some Bad Boys for the weekend. Went through the back woods roads of Maryland to get from Franklin Blvd to I-83, and it was damn near 6 by that time. After a stop for the worst grilled chicken sandwich at Wendy's I have ever had, I got up to Elysburg a little after 9, restarted the fire, the gang met me at the site, the kids went to bed, and the men stayed up and drank and smoke until 2 AM, whereupon I blew up the air mattress in the back of the fit and crashed.
Knoebel's is a lot of fun. It was where my grandparents would take my brother and me whenever we would come up to visit them in Muncy. So many great memories. My friends Rick and Matt took an impromptu weekend camping trip there in the late spring of our senior year. It's no Disney, but it holds a real big place in my heart.
Saturday morning we went to the park - I got to take Bre while Todd took Connor. We came back to the camp site for lunch, and then went off to the pool/water slides. I ended up chasing Brehan and Hayden around in the shallow end of the pool for quite a bit of the afternoon. Got a little sunburned. I started actually trying to swim around. Not laps, but some solid strokes. But soon I could barely see my eyes hurt so bad from all the chlorine. Now wrestling in the water with a 5 and 7 year old takes a lot out of you, but I'm not sure I would call it a great work-out.
That night I got Connor and went to the kiddy part of the park. Amazing how all this stuff just bubbled out of my memory banks. There was a rocket ship slide thing - where you slid down this twisty slide on coconut fiber maps. I had totally forgotten about it until Connor demanded we go. And watching him carefully make sure he didn't hit anyone in the kiddy bumper cars may have been the highlight of the trip. We met up with everyone, rode the Flyer (which just dripped with nostalgia for me), and headed back to camp at 9:30, stopping for slushies and french fries.
Back at camp, the kids went to sleep, we stoked up the fire, Regan made a last minute 11pm beer run, and we stayed up until 3 AM before we packed it in for the night.
The next morning we packed up camp and left before 10 AM, I think. So, needless to say - on maybe 5 hours of sleep and 5 beers, I was not feeling great. Got back to civilization, hoping to feel better to do a 30-30-30 (30 minute swim, 30 minute bike, and 30 minute run), but it just was not to be.
So, there you have it. A lot of fun, but a totally lost week. I didn't do a damned thing from Tuesday until Sunday, unless you count splashing around in the huge pool on Saturday. (It's nearly two weeks later as I write this, and I'm still disappointed in myself.) It just shows how easy it it to get off track.
Jul 5, 2011
Swimming the Primal Abyss
So, this is what I swim at the beach:
You can kind of see the two jetties, or at least the humps in the sand around them, that are the markers. I measured this on Google maps, which tells me this is about 125 yards apart. Yeah, and those two white specs there are boats - which tend to be moored there quite a bit.
This started around Memorial Day. Alabama dumps at the northern-jetty, and - no one really getting in the water - we would pile our beach stuff up there. The thing you can't see, however, is the coral reef that makes up part of the jetty and stretches to the north.
Well, on Memorial Day, we got the kayak out and started puttering around. Larry and I both got in, and we immediately ran aground on the reef. I had Larry get out, and flying solo I had no problem getting over the reef and tooling around. But I still didn't know how extensive this thing was. As the tide started going out, I started walking around the surf - still wigged out by the bay water, and I noticed that - yeah - there is a lot of coral there - no wonder we were having trouble. I could start to see the coral poking up out of the water, and I figured - well, if there's all that coral there, we'll just have to move up slightly more north of the reef. I started trekking further and further north along the reef, trying to feel my way along it. But I kept stepping into holes, kicking pieces of the reef over, and no matter how far north I went, it was still there!
About that time, two things happened. It dawned on me that the southern beach front - between Alabama and Georgia - didn't seem to have that problem as there was a group of kids about 20 yards off shore horsing around and having a great time. And, I kicked a piece of coral, it gave way, I thought it was something in the water, recoiled, stepped in a hole, and fell. I caught myself in the surf with my hands - but I was soaked. So I figured - well, what the hell now, I might as well explore the southern beach.
So I waded back to shore, trudged over to the area south of the Alabama jetty, and waded back in. And it was nice. Despite being the end of May, the water was warm. And it was pretty obvious that it was a sandy bottom all the way out - not the muck I had imagined. I kept wading out, got out beyond the jetties, and realized that I was only up to my waist in the water. I looked around approvingly and decided - I can swim this!
June was really busy - so I didn't get back down to Delaware until the 4th of July. Going into it, I was like - I am so doing everything down there - biking, swimming, running. I'll at least brick every day and I'll prolly get a day of all three in there, to boot! And then ... vacation intervened.
Friday - as I already related - was a wash. I think I got in the water but didn't really do anything. As we went to the brewery and then to dinner, I told myself - that's okay, I'll just do all three tomorrow. Which was why I let Eileen talk me into doing the Firecracker 5k so easily, I think. And why I pushed myself to do the bike after it.
As late as Saturday afternoon, my plan was to jump into the water and do a little swimming, too. But heading out to the beach, one thing was immediately clear: we weren't getting in the water. Why? Attack of those primitive life forms from the stygian depths of the ocean - the jellyfish. Scores of them, washed up on shore, extruding themselves through the jetty, hanging out in the coral pools, smashed to bits on shore, washed up on shore, lazily circling in the surf arranged in a defensive network.... I think many of them were dead, and I had no intention of testing whether their sting lived on. Besides, I had bricked, so.....
At Broadkill, there are two winds - the Marsh Wind, which brings flies, and the Bay Wind - which keeps the flies away. And apparently, according to local lore, the Bay Wind has variant: if the wind is blowing all the way from the ocean, it brings in the jellies. Now the water was warm and brackish, and this might have been killing a lot of the little blighters - but there they were.
So, Saturday came and went, and Sunday dawned, and the wind had shifted and now the jellies were gone. No trace of them whatsoever. So into the water everyone poured.
Now, mind you, I'm still a little igged out by the bay water - Memorial Day revelations not withstanding. Plus, everyone's been talking about the sharks and stingrays that they've been finding off the beach. And, you can't see more than 4 inches into the murky green depths, even if those depths are only 2.5 feet. "Shuffle your feet; that'll chase the stingrays away" sounds an awful lot like bang two sticks together to keep the mountain lions away..... But, at least it's not the chocolate milk I remember from last year. And my Memorial Day explorations confirmed that it is a sandy bottom way out there. So I put on my swim suit, grabbed my goggles, and headed in for a crisp 3 times up and down the beach.
So, first - I encounter two members of the extended BBC contingent for the weekend. Nice enough guys when you're not training so you don't die in a month, but when you're trying to get at least 100 yards on a stretch of beach 125 yards, and they are both right at that line between the deepest you feel you can go and so shallow that you'll drag your knuckles every stroke.... Well, I was feeling a bit trapped. I exchanged niceties, strapped on my googles, and tried to get a lap in.
Second - I've done some reading, and people talk about the panic that sets in when you're in a lake and quite literally find yourself out of your depth. It's true. I've had it twice now this summer - once in Sandbridge when I felt like I nearly got swept out to sea, and this moment. Here I am, head down, realizing how murky and green everything is, when I see something flit just out of my range of sight, something pale and long (maybe my arm?) that really seems to swim away. I've seen them pull sharks (little ones) out of the water. People fish here all the time. And the niceties I was referring to above? Stingrays.....
And the thought goes through my head - I'm just really not into messing around with whatever that is. So I'll just pull up for a couple of seconds, let it go on its merry way, figure out how far that little splashing took me.... I wasn't scared, just ... didn't want to press my luck. I set my feet down, and realize I can't feel the bottom. Now, I'm a decent enough swimmer that panic in me doesn't look like immediately thrashing about and yelling. But it does mean I stop everything else I'm doing and quickly try to get back to where I can touch. Which I do....
And immediately find myself struck into conversation with the two fellows from above, who have apparently followed me on my little flailing adventure. Either that, or I didn't swim anywhere near as far as I thought I had....
At this point, it's hopeless. I'm stuck, I'm a little shaken because I don't know what for hole I just swam into, I can't tell where it gets really deep, and I'm a little freaked out. So I tell all this to the guys - swimmy thing, can't touch, swam into a hole of something. We go in a little further towards shore, and the one guy is merrily chatting away about all manner of sea monsters and things that live in rivers.
Third - it was about then that I stepped on something. I don't know what it was. I don't think it was a rock; it was prolly a horseshoe crab. But I felt the thing underfoot and did one of those acrobatic things where you were going to transfer your weight, somehow stop mid transfer, and do a not so graceful hop-step, that ended with me dunking myself. I got myself back up and said - dammit, I just stepped on something, I'm out. And the swimming was done for the day.
View 2011-07-04 17:58 Beach Ride in a larger map
The next day was Monday, July 4, and by God, I was bound and determined to get in my laps at the beach. I hadn't done it at all yet, we were to leave the next day, and I simply have to get used to this if I'm going to keep tri-ing. So, after lazing around doing one thing or the other all afternoon and mixing up some ice cream and brining a pork loin, I don my swim-suit, grab my goggles, and storm to the beach. I'm in before I have time to chicken out, only this time the tide is out - which means that sandy bottom goes out a long ways up to your waist. The boat is parked out there, and there are a few BBC'ers out there, but I go beyond them. I strap on the goggles, and dive in, and start crawling my way down the beach. Success! I mean - I kind of stop a couple of times, because this is effing weird - where the hell am I? How close is the boat?! But I keep going and I figure I hit 100 yards or so, turn around, and go back the other way. When I get tired, I roll on my back and trot out my new backstroke. That's slow going, especially swimming up stream. But all in all I get four laps in before I get really tired, flip on my back to do the back stroke, and somehow manage to turn myself around. Completely confused, I figured this was a good indication that I'm done.
But I felt great! I rushed back inside, changed into biking gear, got the pork loin on the grill, recruited Carlos, and went out for a quick sprint to the end of the park and back. A quick stop at the end of the world - and a few shoulder presses with the bike, and we're heading back to the BBC. Half an hour, 5.7 miles, going about 11mph with a top speed of 22mph in a sprint from the Mall to the house.... Yeah, I was feeling pretty good.
Dinner and drinks (a lovely concoction Carlos whipped up with a lot of ice, soda water, lots of lime, and a tad more than generous splash of Don Q) were well deserved that night!
This started around Memorial Day. Alabama dumps at the northern-jetty, and - no one really getting in the water - we would pile our beach stuff up there. The thing you can't see, however, is the coral reef that makes up part of the jetty and stretches to the north.
Well, on Memorial Day, we got the kayak out and started puttering around. Larry and I both got in, and we immediately ran aground on the reef. I had Larry get out, and flying solo I had no problem getting over the reef and tooling around. But I still didn't know how extensive this thing was. As the tide started going out, I started walking around the surf - still wigged out by the bay water, and I noticed that - yeah - there is a lot of coral there - no wonder we were having trouble. I could start to see the coral poking up out of the water, and I figured - well, if there's all that coral there, we'll just have to move up slightly more north of the reef. I started trekking further and further north along the reef, trying to feel my way along it. But I kept stepping into holes, kicking pieces of the reef over, and no matter how far north I went, it was still there!
About that time, two things happened. It dawned on me that the southern beach front - between Alabama and Georgia - didn't seem to have that problem as there was a group of kids about 20 yards off shore horsing around and having a great time. And, I kicked a piece of coral, it gave way, I thought it was something in the water, recoiled, stepped in a hole, and fell. I caught myself in the surf with my hands - but I was soaked. So I figured - well, what the hell now, I might as well explore the southern beach.
So I waded back to shore, trudged over to the area south of the Alabama jetty, and waded back in. And it was nice. Despite being the end of May, the water was warm. And it was pretty obvious that it was a sandy bottom all the way out - not the muck I had imagined. I kept wading out, got out beyond the jetties, and realized that I was only up to my waist in the water. I looked around approvingly and decided - I can swim this!
June was really busy - so I didn't get back down to Delaware until the 4th of July. Going into it, I was like - I am so doing everything down there - biking, swimming, running. I'll at least brick every day and I'll prolly get a day of all three in there, to boot! And then ... vacation intervened.
Friday - as I already related - was a wash. I think I got in the water but didn't really do anything. As we went to the brewery and then to dinner, I told myself - that's okay, I'll just do all three tomorrow. Which was why I let Eileen talk me into doing the Firecracker 5k so easily, I think. And why I pushed myself to do the bike after it.
As late as Saturday afternoon, my plan was to jump into the water and do a little swimming, too. But heading out to the beach, one thing was immediately clear: we weren't getting in the water. Why? Attack of those primitive life forms from the stygian depths of the ocean - the jellyfish. Scores of them, washed up on shore, extruding themselves through the jetty, hanging out in the coral pools, smashed to bits on shore, washed up on shore, lazily circling in the surf arranged in a defensive network.... I think many of them were dead, and I had no intention of testing whether their sting lived on. Besides, I had bricked, so.....
At Broadkill, there are two winds - the Marsh Wind, which brings flies, and the Bay Wind - which keeps the flies away. And apparently, according to local lore, the Bay Wind has variant: if the wind is blowing all the way from the ocean, it brings in the jellies. Now the water was warm and brackish, and this might have been killing a lot of the little blighters - but there they were.
So, Saturday came and went, and Sunday dawned, and the wind had shifted and now the jellies were gone. No trace of them whatsoever. So into the water everyone poured.
Now, mind you, I'm still a little igged out by the bay water - Memorial Day revelations not withstanding. Plus, everyone's been talking about the sharks and stingrays that they've been finding off the beach. And, you can't see more than 4 inches into the murky green depths, even if those depths are only 2.5 feet. "Shuffle your feet; that'll chase the stingrays away" sounds an awful lot like bang two sticks together to keep the mountain lions away..... But, at least it's not the chocolate milk I remember from last year. And my Memorial Day explorations confirmed that it is a sandy bottom way out there. So I put on my swim suit, grabbed my goggles, and headed in for a crisp 3 times up and down the beach.
So, first - I encounter two members of the extended BBC contingent for the weekend. Nice enough guys when you're not training so you don't die in a month, but when you're trying to get at least 100 yards on a stretch of beach 125 yards, and they are both right at that line between the deepest you feel you can go and so shallow that you'll drag your knuckles every stroke.... Well, I was feeling a bit trapped. I exchanged niceties, strapped on my googles, and tried to get a lap in.
Second - I've done some reading, and people talk about the panic that sets in when you're in a lake and quite literally find yourself out of your depth. It's true. I've had it twice now this summer - once in Sandbridge when I felt like I nearly got swept out to sea, and this moment. Here I am, head down, realizing how murky and green everything is, when I see something flit just out of my range of sight, something pale and long (maybe my arm?) that really seems to swim away. I've seen them pull sharks (little ones) out of the water. People fish here all the time. And the niceties I was referring to above? Stingrays.....
And the thought goes through my head - I'm just really not into messing around with whatever that is. So I'll just pull up for a couple of seconds, let it go on its merry way, figure out how far that little splashing took me.... I wasn't scared, just ... didn't want to press my luck. I set my feet down, and realize I can't feel the bottom. Now, I'm a decent enough swimmer that panic in me doesn't look like immediately thrashing about and yelling. But it does mean I stop everything else I'm doing and quickly try to get back to where I can touch. Which I do....
And immediately find myself struck into conversation with the two fellows from above, who have apparently followed me on my little flailing adventure. Either that, or I didn't swim anywhere near as far as I thought I had....
At this point, it's hopeless. I'm stuck, I'm a little shaken because I don't know what for hole I just swam into, I can't tell where it gets really deep, and I'm a little freaked out. So I tell all this to the guys - swimmy thing, can't touch, swam into a hole of something. We go in a little further towards shore, and the one guy is merrily chatting away about all manner of sea monsters and things that live in rivers.
Third - it was about then that I stepped on something. I don't know what it was. I don't think it was a rock; it was prolly a horseshoe crab. But I felt the thing underfoot and did one of those acrobatic things where you were going to transfer your weight, somehow stop mid transfer, and do a not so graceful hop-step, that ended with me dunking myself. I got myself back up and said - dammit, I just stepped on something, I'm out. And the swimming was done for the day.
View 2011-07-04 17:58 Beach Ride in a larger map
The next day was Monday, July 4, and by God, I was bound and determined to get in my laps at the beach. I hadn't done it at all yet, we were to leave the next day, and I simply have to get used to this if I'm going to keep tri-ing. So, after lazing around doing one thing or the other all afternoon and mixing up some ice cream and brining a pork loin, I don my swim-suit, grab my goggles, and storm to the beach. I'm in before I have time to chicken out, only this time the tide is out - which means that sandy bottom goes out a long ways up to your waist. The boat is parked out there, and there are a few BBC'ers out there, but I go beyond them. I strap on the goggles, and dive in, and start crawling my way down the beach. Success! I mean - I kind of stop a couple of times, because this is effing weird - where the hell am I? How close is the boat?! But I keep going and I figure I hit 100 yards or so, turn around, and go back the other way. When I get tired, I roll on my back and trot out my new backstroke. That's slow going, especially swimming up stream. But all in all I get four laps in before I get really tired, flip on my back to do the back stroke, and somehow manage to turn myself around. Completely confused, I figured this was a good indication that I'm done.
 |
| July 18, 2011 |
Dinner and drinks (a lovely concoction Carlos whipped up with a lot of ice, soda water, lots of lime, and a tad more than generous splash of Don Q) were well deserved that night!
Jul 4, 2011
Not According to Plan
Well, here it is Monday the 4th. It's been a pretty crazy week, and things did not go exactly according to plan.
Monday
I missed my strength workout. Sat down for dinner with Beth and talked right on past 8:00. Beth looked at me and said, well, it's pretty much too late to go to the gym, now, isn't it? And I had to concur.
Tuesday
It was hot and sticky, so I headed to the gym to get a run in. Got on the treadmill and kept things easy - averaged about 5.5mph and just focused on keeping on running. It was pretty difficult, I think because the gym was almost and hot and sticky as it was outside. Found myself wheezing along. I thought about pushing up the speed on the last five minutes in minute increments, but couldn't do it; I think I dropped to 5mph for a couple minutes of the five, but dialed it back to 5.5mph for the final minute for something of a kick.
Watched the O's getting beat, watched a great sunset over storm clouds, watched the storm roll in and just drop buckets of rain. It was kinda interesting because - of course - the O's game on the other side of town was getting this weather before we were in the gym. So when it started to drizzle, I knew something was afoot, and when they pulled the tarps on the field and showed the gouts of rain, I knew I was staying at the gym for a little while.
So I got off the treadmill, and decided to do some of the strength training I had missed the night before and wait out the storm. The first thing I noticed was that they had changed all the machines around to create a wide walk way through the gym and to the pool area. So I had to hunt for my machines. I couldn't find the independent chest press, just the old chest press. Jumped on the abdominal and lower back machines, decided to skip leg extensions, and wrapped things up with the chest press. And I don't know what the deal was, whether I was tired, have gotten worse, or the new machine, but 120# was rough. I got two sets of 12 in, but dropped back to 100# for the final set. Just too much.
Rain finished, I left the gym, and dragged myself back home....
Wednesday
I threw some laundry in after work, made a really bad chard and bacon (I think adding salt made the chard weep, which kinda nullified the bacon; and I prolly should have used more bacon....) Then I jumped on my bike for a quick long ride before meeting up with Joe for Phillies-Red Sox. Went down beyond the gym, and down to Lehigh Cement. Never been down there, nice view of Fort McHenry. Watched a tug come in. Looked at my phone while taking pictures and saw that it was twenty after 7. Hopped back on my bike and high-tailed it over to the Fieldhouse. When I got off the bike I started dripping. The cool thing was, it was obviously a work-out. I topped out at 22mph somewhere and the mileage wasn't there, but it was easily doable, not the struggle from Tuesday.
Thursday
I had planned to postpone the Thursday workout because we would be going to the beach. Dragging stuff up from the basement - like the bike carrier and Beth's bike - ought to count for something, right?
Friday
My plan was to start off and do all sorts of stuff on Friday, but that did not happen. After a little time on the beach in the AM, we had a quick bite to eat at the BBC and then took off by mid-afternoon for Dogfish Head Brewery. A healthy sampling of beer later, and a purchase of a shirt and case of beer, we were off to the Milton Farmers' Market. Nothing there, we headed over to the Broadkill Boathouse for dinner. Got back to the BBC and more or less crashed. Saturday was going to be a busy day....
Saturday
The Usual Suspects got up early Saturday morning and set off to Rehoboth to run the Firecracker 5K Walk and Run. It was the same course as the Thanksgiving Race last fall where I kinda fell apart, but came in at 35 or something. Carlos and Beth got up close to the start and ran. I think they ended up finishing around 26 minutes, Carlos coming in ahead of Beth.
Eileen had convinced me to run the 5K Friday evening, promising to fetch beer all day Saturday. So Tony, Eileen and I ran together. I followed Week 5 of the Couch to 5K program - 5 minutes running, 3 minutes walking - repeat for a total of 15 minutes running. We ran the first 5 minute warm-up into the first 5 minute run, but even then there wasn't enough time to do the whole 5k - I think it got us right to the water station at 2 miles. We walked the cool-down, and then I reset and we started all over with a 5 minute run. Tony ran ahead when we came to the 3 minute walk, but Eileen stuck with me. When it came to the next 5 minute run, we were within striking distance, so I really tried to leg it out and finish with a good strong kick. I felt like puking after the kick - so I gave it a good shot of what I had left - but a quick drink of water and it was easy to suppress that. But the kick felt GOOD!
Not sure of the pacing. I finished at just under 41 minutes, which was way down there at #319, off of Eileen's pace from the week before, and short of my PR. There wasn't really a heat problem - it felt fairly cool and wasn't too humid. The fact that we got to the Mile 2 marker just before the end of the 3rd five minute run - albeit having run 4 of the first 5 minutes of warmup - suggests that our top pace was pretty close to my top pace I had been running in training - maybe a touch under 5.5mph/11 minute miles. The 41 minute overall means I was running a little under 14 minute miles, slightly better than my average on the treadmill. That probably was running the warmup and the good kick. That I got that and literally went the extra mile - I'll say that was good. I either need to get my own Garmin, or start running with my phone. (Okay, so looking at the results, my pace was 13:09 - and I was dead last in my age group.)
Physically, my left calf felt great while stretching, but started to knot up almost immediately. Not hellishly, but it was there. Both calves were cramping after Mile 2. I need to stretch better after the run, but all in all - I didn't feel too bad and breathing was fine - maybe a little raspy. We packed into the car and took the ride back to Broadkill, and I already knew what part 2 was going to be.
We got out of the car at the BBC, I changed shorts (so I had a pocket for my phone) and put my sandals on (my feet felt like they were swelling a little in my running shoes), filled my water bottle, strapped on my helmet, and headed out for a bike ride. I reckoned it was three miles down to Route 1 from Broadkill, so after my 5k a little 6 miles of biking would be good and would help stretch the calves.
View 2011-07-02 09:17 Broadkill To Route 1 in a larger map
Well, I knew something was up when my phone started talking to me right after I crossed the bridge, suggesting it was a mile from the BBC. Made it down to Rt 1 several minutes later. I felt good about the ride, but it seemed a lot longer than I had initially thought. Was keeping hydrated, and was pushing myself pretty good. I had a little bay breeze at my back, and was consistently in 2.7, swapping up to 3.6 every once in awhile and getting some saddle relief with a standing climb at 3.7. I started developing what I called skating - working on real powerful strides at 3.7 whether standing or seated. Not too long, but something that made 2.7 feel like a god-send when it came, and when my quads got a little tired I would as often upshift to 3.7 as downshift to 2.6, skating to change the rhythm and stretch, and then would go back to 2.7. Somewhere in here I figured I topped out at the 19.9mph.
I hit Rt 1 and doubled back, expecting to head into that breeze. Luckily, it never materialized. I started wondering when my phone was going to tell me I had hit another mile marker, but I knew I was beyond the 3 miles I had thought. I dropped my water bottle and had to stop and go back and get it. But otherwise the return trip was pretty uneventful. I was skating a little more, thankful I wasn't getting smacked with a headwind. That materialized after the double turn heading up to the bridge, and that was rough. I think I dropped to 2.5 or maybe 2.4; man it would be nice to have a computerized bike that could tell you what you shifted to when. Got over the bridge and cranked it up hard and sprinted the mile back to BBC.
Checking the route out later, turns out it was a total of 8.8 miles. I felt good. The knot from the run had been worked out, no more cramping, and I had a good amount of energy left - I wasn't as wiped out as I had been the Sunday Beth was gone and I swam and biked and then passed out. That being said, I did grab a couple of Corona's, set up the beach chairs, watched the parade, and then hung out for the rest of the day.
Monday
I missed my strength workout. Sat down for dinner with Beth and talked right on past 8:00. Beth looked at me and said, well, it's pretty much too late to go to the gym, now, isn't it? And I had to concur.
Tuesday
It was hot and sticky, so I headed to the gym to get a run in. Got on the treadmill and kept things easy - averaged about 5.5mph and just focused on keeping on running. It was pretty difficult, I think because the gym was almost and hot and sticky as it was outside. Found myself wheezing along. I thought about pushing up the speed on the last five minutes in minute increments, but couldn't do it; I think I dropped to 5mph for a couple minutes of the five, but dialed it back to 5.5mph for the final minute for something of a kick.
Watched the O's getting beat, watched a great sunset over storm clouds, watched the storm roll in and just drop buckets of rain. It was kinda interesting because - of course - the O's game on the other side of town was getting this weather before we were in the gym. So when it started to drizzle, I knew something was afoot, and when they pulled the tarps on the field and showed the gouts of rain, I knew I was staying at the gym for a little while.
So I got off the treadmill, and decided to do some of the strength training I had missed the night before and wait out the storm. The first thing I noticed was that they had changed all the machines around to create a wide walk way through the gym and to the pool area. So I had to hunt for my machines. I couldn't find the independent chest press, just the old chest press. Jumped on the abdominal and lower back machines, decided to skip leg extensions, and wrapped things up with the chest press. And I don't know what the deal was, whether I was tired, have gotten worse, or the new machine, but 120# was rough. I got two sets of 12 in, but dropped back to 100# for the final set. Just too much.
Rain finished, I left the gym, and dragged myself back home....
 |
| Lehigh Cement |
I threw some laundry in after work, made a really bad chard and bacon (I think adding salt made the chard weep, which kinda nullified the bacon; and I prolly should have used more bacon....) Then I jumped on my bike for a quick long ride before meeting up with Joe for Phillies-Red Sox. Went down beyond the gym, and down to Lehigh Cement. Never been down there, nice view of Fort McHenry. Watched a tug come in. Looked at my phone while taking pictures and saw that it was twenty after 7. Hopped back on my bike and high-tailed it over to the Fieldhouse. When I got off the bike I started dripping. The cool thing was, it was obviously a work-out. I topped out at 22mph somewhere and the mileage wasn't there, but it was easily doable, not the struggle from Tuesday.
Thursday
I had planned to postpone the Thursday workout because we would be going to the beach. Dragging stuff up from the basement - like the bike carrier and Beth's bike - ought to count for something, right?
Friday
My plan was to start off and do all sorts of stuff on Friday, but that did not happen. After a little time on the beach in the AM, we had a quick bite to eat at the BBC and then took off by mid-afternoon for Dogfish Head Brewery. A healthy sampling of beer later, and a purchase of a shirt and case of beer, we were off to the Milton Farmers' Market. Nothing there, we headed over to the Broadkill Boathouse for dinner. Got back to the BBC and more or less crashed. Saturday was going to be a busy day....
Saturday
The Usual Suspects got up early Saturday morning and set off to Rehoboth to run the Firecracker 5K Walk and Run. It was the same course as the Thanksgiving Race last fall where I kinda fell apart, but came in at 35 or something. Carlos and Beth got up close to the start and ran. I think they ended up finishing around 26 minutes, Carlos coming in ahead of Beth.
Eileen had convinced me to run the 5K Friday evening, promising to fetch beer all day Saturday. So Tony, Eileen and I ran together. I followed Week 5 of the Couch to 5K program - 5 minutes running, 3 minutes walking - repeat for a total of 15 minutes running. We ran the first 5 minute warm-up into the first 5 minute run, but even then there wasn't enough time to do the whole 5k - I think it got us right to the water station at 2 miles. We walked the cool-down, and then I reset and we started all over with a 5 minute run. Tony ran ahead when we came to the 3 minute walk, but Eileen stuck with me. When it came to the next 5 minute run, we were within striking distance, so I really tried to leg it out and finish with a good strong kick. I felt like puking after the kick - so I gave it a good shot of what I had left - but a quick drink of water and it was easy to suppress that. But the kick felt GOOD!
Not sure of the pacing. I finished at just under 41 minutes, which was way down there at #319, off of Eileen's pace from the week before, and short of my PR. There wasn't really a heat problem - it felt fairly cool and wasn't too humid. The fact that we got to the Mile 2 marker just before the end of the 3rd five minute run - albeit having run 4 of the first 5 minutes of warmup - suggests that our top pace was pretty close to my top pace I had been running in training - maybe a touch under 5.5mph/11 minute miles. The 41 minute overall means I was running a little under 14 minute miles, slightly better than my average on the treadmill. That probably was running the warmup and the good kick. That I got that and literally went the extra mile - I'll say that was good. I either need to get my own Garmin, or start running with my phone. (Okay, so looking at the results, my pace was 13:09 - and I was dead last in my age group.)
Physically, my left calf felt great while stretching, but started to knot up almost immediately. Not hellishly, but it was there. Both calves were cramping after Mile 2. I need to stretch better after the run, but all in all - I didn't feel too bad and breathing was fine - maybe a little raspy. We packed into the car and took the ride back to Broadkill, and I already knew what part 2 was going to be.
We got out of the car at the BBC, I changed shorts (so I had a pocket for my phone) and put my sandals on (my feet felt like they were swelling a little in my running shoes), filled my water bottle, strapped on my helmet, and headed out for a bike ride. I reckoned it was three miles down to Route 1 from Broadkill, so after my 5k a little 6 miles of biking would be good and would help stretch the calves.
View 2011-07-02 09:17 Broadkill To Route 1 in a larger map
Well, I knew something was up when my phone started talking to me right after I crossed the bridge, suggesting it was a mile from the BBC. Made it down to Rt 1 several minutes later. I felt good about the ride, but it seemed a lot longer than I had initially thought. Was keeping hydrated, and was pushing myself pretty good. I had a little bay breeze at my back, and was consistently in 2.7, swapping up to 3.6 every once in awhile and getting some saddle relief with a standing climb at 3.7. I started developing what I called skating - working on real powerful strides at 3.7 whether standing or seated. Not too long, but something that made 2.7 feel like a god-send when it came, and when my quads got a little tired I would as often upshift to 3.7 as downshift to 2.6, skating to change the rhythm and stretch, and then would go back to 2.7. Somewhere in here I figured I topped out at the 19.9mph.
I hit Rt 1 and doubled back, expecting to head into that breeze. Luckily, it never materialized. I started wondering when my phone was going to tell me I had hit another mile marker, but I knew I was beyond the 3 miles I had thought. I dropped my water bottle and had to stop and go back and get it. But otherwise the return trip was pretty uneventful. I was skating a little more, thankful I wasn't getting smacked with a headwind. That materialized after the double turn heading up to the bridge, and that was rough. I think I dropped to 2.5 or maybe 2.4; man it would be nice to have a computerized bike that could tell you what you shifted to when. Got over the bridge and cranked it up hard and sprinted the mile back to BBC.
Checking the route out later, turns out it was a total of 8.8 miles. I felt good. The knot from the run had been worked out, no more cramping, and I had a good amount of energy left - I wasn't as wiped out as I had been the Sunday Beth was gone and I swam and biked and then passed out. That being said, I did grab a couple of Corona's, set up the beach chairs, watched the parade, and then hung out for the rest of the day.
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