As Bandera approaches

I'm only a couple weeks out from the Bandera 100K, and I feel like I have a lot of work left to do, when in reality, I really don't have anything left to do.  I knocked out an extended loop of Lake Georgetown last weekend, and did somewhere between 28-30 miles in 6:15.  I'll do some long runs this weekend, but nothing that will remotely approach that kind of mileage.  I just need a sub 16 hour finish at Bandera to knock out my WS100 qualifier, but I'd like to do something a little more respectable than that.  I know the course is very, very tough, but as long as I keep putting one foot in front of the other, I should be fine.

Once Bandera is complete, I have to figure out what the rest of my year will look like.

Marathon 2 Marathon

Here's a quick race report, not proof read...

Going in to this race, I had no idea how it would go.  Three weeks after running a 100 miler, I had no idea how my body would respond to running a marathon.  Additionally, this was my first true, stand-alone marathon in almost 3 years, so I had no idea what kind of pace I could sustain for 26.2 miles.  The course is described as a fast, downhill course, so I was hoping to put in a respectable time.

Friday I left work, and we drove out to Ft. Stockton where we were staying the night before the race.  There was a pasta dinner at the visitor's center for those who weren't staying in Marathon.  We stopped in for dinner and briefly chatted with some race volunteers and some of the other runners.  Afterwards, we checked into the hotel and settled in.

The alarm went off at 5:45 am.  I got up drank a redbull and ate a quick breakfast.  Once ready, we loaded into the car and headed toward the start 26 miles north of Marathon.  We had elected to park at the start and be shuttled back to our car after the race.  I was watching the odometer closely, as I wasn't sure how visible the start would be.  Eventually we came up to a spot in the road where two cars were parked just off the road.  On the opposite side was a couple port-o-potties and a table with a water cooler.  We parked and got out to use the facilities.  On the road was the starting line painted in orange.  It was about 30 minutes before the start, and there might have been 6 runners waiting.

We still needed to pick up our race numbers, so asked around, but no one seemed to know.  About 7:20 the busses with the bulk of the runners showed up.  One of the race officials also arrived in his truck, and we were able to get our numbers and chips.  We both pinned on our numbers, locked up the car, and stood with the rest of the runners waiting for the race to start.  At 7:30 there was still one runner using the restroom, so they delayed the start until he was ready, only in a very small race would that ever happen.

Just after 7:30, we were given the signal and off we went.  The course started uphill for the first two miles.  I felt like I was really struggling even though I wasn't running very fast.  A lot of runners went by me, some of which I was pretty positve were going out way too fast.  When we hit the first mile marker, I looked at my watch.  My split was right at 8:30.  I was happy with that, especially with it being uphill.  I noticed a lot of the runners who went by me backing off their pace.  At mile two, I clocked another mile right around 8:30.  Again, several runners fell back.  After mile two, we got a pretty significant downhill.  I hit 7:45 for mile three.

At that point, I still had no idea what kind of pace I would be able to sustain.  I had settled down a bit and didn't feel like I was pushing the pace very hard, but it was still very early in the race.  The temperature in the early portion of the race was quite nice, and I was feeling pretty good.  I could see Katie about 45 seconds to a minute in front of me.  I knew she was either going out too hard or was going to run considerably faster than her race plan.  She was supposed to be running M2M as a workout, not a race.

I cruised through the next few miles just under 8 minutes per mile, which felt like a good pace, not pushing too hard.  Just after mile 7, the course started a long, gradual ascent.  My pace fell off a little to just at 8 minute miles.  Around mile 9, I caught Katie and passed her.  She make a sarcastic remark.  I replied, "my legs could give out at any point."  Her response was "Yeah, right."

After mile 11, we hit the first significant climb on the course.  It wasn't overly steep, but after 4+ miles of gradual climbing, the hill felt harder than it would have been otherwise.  I closed around an 8:20 for mile 12, and set my sights on the half.  As I approached the half, I passed a guy and a girl who were running together.  The girl look at me and said, "Please don't go use the port-o-pottie."  I replied, "I'll race you!"  She didn't laugh.  Her response was, "I don't know if I'm going to make it!"  I knew that feeling all too well.  I assume she made it, but I never saw her again.

I crossed the halfway point at a shade over 1:45, so I was on pace for around a 3:30, which I would ahve been ecstatic with given the situation.  I was pretty sure I wasn't going to hold that pace for the second half, but I was hoping to stay under 3:40 or so for the race.  By the time I hit mile 15, my legs felt like bricks.  I knew it was going to be a struggle to keep any sort of pace.  I backed off my pace, slowing to closer to 9 minute miles to try and save some for the last portion of the race.  I'd read that the last 4 miles were downhill, so I was just focused on trying to get past the hill at mile 22.

By the time I hit mile 18, I knew I was in trouble.  My energy level felt great, but my legs were done.  I had nothing in them.  I couldn't will them to go. It was also getting very warm.  With absolutely no shade, I started dumping water over my head at aid stations to try to cool off.  My pace slowed more and I had to take some walk breaks.  My miles went into the 10 and 11 minute range.  When I finally hit the mile 22 hill, I just utilized a walk/run strategy up the hill.

I finally crested the hill and prepared myself for the big descent into Marathon.  It didn't come.  Two more miles were flat, uphill, or the slightest bit downhill.  Mentally, it was a beating.  I struggle, shuffled, walked, and cursed my way forward.  My energy level still felt good, but my legs were completely spent.  I just wanted a beer.

I finally got to mile 24, which was the last aid station.  I had about 25 minutes to cover 2.2 miles and come in under 4 hours.  There was just no way.  I shuffled out of the aid station, and up the final short climb.  As I began the descent into marathon, I told myself I could run the rest of the way in.  I couldn't.  At that point, my hip was hurting pretty bad.  I walk/shuffled my way to a 13 minute 26th mile, and then limped my way to a psuedo run to finish in 4:02.

A couple minutes later Katie came in at 4:04.  Slow times for her as well, but she doesn't do well in heat.  We grabbed some water and headed for some shade.  Katie wasn't feeling well, and eventually started throwing up.  We went to the post-race party and I ate some bbq and drank beer while Katie attempted to regain her composure.  Afterwards we grabbed showers and cleaned up before hitting the bar and having a couple beers.

At 6 pm, the awards ceremony started.  Neither of us got anything, but Katie ended up finishing 5th OA for women.  She was pretty disappointed because had she followed her plan, she would have finished 2nd OA without even trying to race the course.  At 6:30 the post race party started and the beer flowed for all.  We hung out until around 11 pm, and then headed back to crash.  We could still hear the band playing and the festivities going when we laid down to sleep.

All things considered, I couldn't complain about the race.  The weather got a little warm, but it was a fun race.  Katie and I both agreed we'd be back next year, hopefully both running for the podium.  We also both agreed that even if we couldn't get a room in Marathon, we'd drive all the way down to Marathon and shuttle up to the start.  Though it was an easy process after the race to get the car, we'd rather have our things accessible immediately after the race.  Can't say enough good things about the race.

One last word of caution, the elevation profile and description are very misleading.  Though the net elevation is a loss, this race does not feel like a downhill course.  It is much more challenging than it initially appears.  There are long sections of gradual climbs that are tough, and there are no big descents on the course, despite what the profile shows.

AT100...Its almost go time

Really not sure how this one is going to go for me, as training didn't go as well as I'd hoped. I severely sprained my ankle taking the dog out, leaving me barely able to walk for several days. I couldn't run for 3 weeks, and then had to really ease back in to training due to residual soreness. Because of all of that, I didn't get in any of my back-to-back runs that I'd had on the training schedule. On the other hand, I did a ridiculous amount of hill training, leg work, and core work. I think that will really pay off in the later miles. 

There are a good amount of hills on this course (about 14K feet of climbing), but the running surface is very, very nice. Its mostly gravel and jeep roads, so not really any technical stuff at all. The ultimate goal is to cross the finish line and feel good, but I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't be disappointed if I don't break 24 hours. The original goal was to go closer to 22 hours, but unlikely that will happen. If I break 24, I'll be pretty close to a PR as well. The weather is looking fantastic for the race (69 high/48 low), so that works in my favor too. 

This weekend should be interesting.

AT100 Training

I'm a day under 2 months from the Arkansas Traveller 100 (yes, there are two L's).  Its taken me a while to get to the point of wanting to attempt another 100 miler, and this one is a qualifier that will keep me in the Western States lottery, assuming I don't DNF.  I feel like I have a long way to go in training, yet I feel like I'm way ahead of my previous training for Rocky Raccoon 100.  I admittedly went into that race under-trained.  I logged the miles (did both a 50 miler and a 50K in training), but I didn't do any back-to-back long runs, and I missed a lot of weekday (and some weekend) runs.  This past weekend, I cranked out a 16 miler on Saturday, and followed that with at 3:05 trail run.  While I still need to get the mileage up quite a bit, I'm feeling good on my runs.

This weekend will go a long way to giving me a good idea of my fitness, as I'm running the Capt'n Karl's 60K out at Colorado Bend State Park.  I have no delusions of going out and crushing this race, but instead, I'm looking for a consistent effort.  I just want to feel good the whole race and not allow the race to turn into a death march.  I've run the 30K on this course before, but I can't really remember too much about the course.  I don't remember it being overly technical, but Katie thinks it is.  I guess we'll see.

I still have about 15 pounds I need to drop to get down to my ideal race weight, though I'm only about 5 pounds over my RR100 race weight.  I'll get there eventually if I keep throwing down the mileage.  I'm running a lot of hills, and also doing TRX for core and leg strength.  I'm hoping that extra strength will help me late in the race when historically my legs and core have been shot.

We will see how it goes, but I'm feeling pretty positive about this 100 miler.

Oh Sh#t!!!!

One of the first questions I always seem to get asked when I reveal that I run ultras is, "what do you do if you have to go to the bathroom?"  Of course I laugh, then reveal that I rarely head out on a long run without toilet paper.

If you've done any sort of long distance running, you've been there.  You know it all too well.  You are running along and all of a sudden you feel a slight shift under the skin right below your stomach.  "Uh, oh."  The next thing you know, you are penguin walking with your cheeks squeezed tightly together.  If you are lucky, there's a rumble in your gut and the immediate danger is temporarily over.  At that point, you start running again and shift into bargaining mode with your body.  "PLEASE just let me make it home.  I promise you, its only five more minutes."  If you are really lucky, you make it home and get to relieve yourself in the comfortable confines of your own bathroom, but we all know that doesn't always happen.

If you can't make it home, perhaps you are lucky enough to waddle upon a Starbucks or a McDonald's.  You quickly dart toward the bathroom, but the door is locked.  You stand outside the door, cheeks squeezed tight enough to turn coal into diamonds muttering, "come on, come on."   The door finally opens and out walks a disheveled six year old.  You try not to knock him out of the way as you scramble through the the door and lock it behind you.  Your peril should be over, but you peer down at the toilet seat that is covered in wet toilet paper and puddles of fresh urine.  You'd try to squat but you've just run sixteen miles at marathon goal pace, so you have no confidence in your legs holding you up.  You grunt and frantically dance around trying not to soil yourself while trying to clean off the disgusting toilet seat and cover the seat with a couple inadequate layers of toilet paper.

At the last possible moment, you sit down and...RELIEF.  Dripping sweat in the stagnant air due to the lack of air conditioning in the bathroom, you clean up and get ready to finish your run.  You open the door and waiting outside the door is an attractive member of the opposite sex who is first stunned, then appalled by the smell wafting out of the door.  That's all completely hypothetical, of course.  It never happened to me.

No one outside of ultra runners want to talk about it, but I will.  Why? Because, let's face it...it's really kind of funny when you think about it.  Maybe not at the time, but it is funny.  You can sympathize when you run by someone pinching the cheeks, but you laugh.  You laugh because you can relate.

When you gotta go, you gotta go.  I know someone who was in such dire straits that he had to pop a squat between cars in mid-town Manhattan.  I've had friends come back from a run with one less sock or glove, heck even I've done it, although I'll look for leaves, newspaper, or pretty much anything to keep from sacrificing a $10 sock.

Once, while on a run in Brooklyn, the feeling hit right about the top of the Williamsburg Bridge.  As I frantically tried to get home, I was checking every street for a nook or cranny.  I knew I was getting to the critical point.  Businesses in Brooklyn don't exactly let people stroll in and use their restrooms, and the area I was in didn't have any fast food joints.  Luckily, I made it home just in the nick of time.  I tore the front door open and made a bee line for the bathroom, but the door was shut.  My roommate was showering.  I stood in the kitchen, cheeks clinched, dancing around, trying to decide what to do.  My options were limited.  Risk disaster and wait it out, or open the window (the only way into our backyard...hey, its Brooklyn) and use the back yard.  Time was running extremely short.  I was on borrowed time.  Just as I made the decision to head into the back yard, the bathroom door opened.  I shoved my roommate out of the way, and shut the door.  Close call.

For the two years I lived in Brooklyn, there was a Burger King at the base of the Williamsburg Bridge that was my savior.  I can't even tell you how many times the BK saved me.  Enough that a few of the workers there recognized me when I came in.  In NYC, I knew every Starbucks location, not for coffee, but for restrooms.  Of course, you always ran the risk of sharing the restroom with a homeless person bathing in the sink, but that was better than the alternative.

My girlfriend ran the Boston Marathon a couple years back.  For those that don't know, the Boston Marathon shuttles runners from Boston Common out to the start in Hopkinton.  Runners typically sleep, chat nervously, or go through their race prep on the ride out.  This particular year, as Katie's bus was traveling to the start, a guy quickly made his way to the front of the bus and had a quick discussion with the bus driver.  The bus pulled over to the side of the road and the gentleman darted out the door and toward the trees.  He immediately dropped his pants and took care of business, in view of a busload of other runners.  My guess is that he got back on that bus, head held high, and was greeted with nods of understanding.  Maybe not, but I bet almost everyone on that bus understood.

Speaking of the Boston marathon, the year I ran, we came upon a guy at mile 18 that had suspicious streaks running the length of the back of his legs.  He was running with a strange gait, and as we closed in, we confirmed that he'd soiled himself at some point miles back.  I have to applaud his dedication, though I'm not sure I'd continue at that point.  I have pictures of the guy, and no, you don't want to see them.

My first unfortunate experience with all of this came when I was in college and training for my second marathon. I had the rumbles hit me somewhere around mile 14 or so on a Saturday morning training run.  The route went out by the airport in College Station, and at the time there was little to nothing out that way.  I looked everywhere for a dark clump of trees, a big ditch, anything.  I couldn't see anywhere that wasn't in site of both the road and other runners.  My only option was to gamble and try to get to the airport.  I won't go into details, but I lost that gamble.  I didn't lose bad enough to look like the guy I saw in Boston, but it was bad enough to cause some chafing.  When I got to the airport, I went straight into the restroom and cleaned up.  The remaining problem was that I still had to run back to campus.  When I saw the coach drive by, I start limping and faked an injury to get a ride back.

Over the years, I've learned to prepare for the worst, but I've also learned to take an inventory of my surroundings before popping a squat.  Unfortunately for a cyclist, and myself, he either forgot to look around or was in such a bad spot, that he didn't survey first.  I was on a trail run in the greenbelt in Austin a couple years ago, when I popped out on the road for a short out-and-back before returning to the trails.  As I ran onto the road, I noticed a cyclist drop his bike and head onto the trail.  When I returned to the trail, I rounded a corner and looked up on a small rise to see a bare butt.  And yes, he was in the middle of the deed.  He apparently didn't realize that he rounded a corner and though he was concealed from the area of trail he came off, he was exposed to the trail he'd come in on.  I continued running and didn't say a word as I passed his position.

The stories are pretty much endless, but as some point I have to wrap this up.  Most of you who are reading probably relate to at least one of the stories, but if if none of this sounded familiar to you...just keep running, and eventually, it will.

Boundless

I recently discovered this show on Esquire.  Its about a couple guys who travel the world and do an assortment of endurance races, anything from 50 milers to multi-day adventure races.  We've watched about 4 episodes so far, and while the show isn't anything that will completely blow you away, I've found it quite entertaining.

Episodes are available online as well on the Esquire website.

On the way back down to lone pine.

Another complaint about the heat

Yep, I'm doing it.  Just got in from a tempo run in 95 degree heat.  Brutal.

However, the tempo miles were 7:38, 7:15, and 7:11.  I'd like to see those a minute faster or more, but in the heat, I can't complain too much.  I'll consider those encouraging, especially since I'm only in week 3 of training and I have some weight to drop.  It sure will be nice to log some cooler miles in Wisconsin in August to see what my fitness is really looking like.

2nd Place AG

I did the inaugural Granger Lake Sprint Triathlon today.  Although I'm not in prime triathlon shape, and it was FAR from my finest performance, I notched 2nd place in my AG and 12th OA.  The conditions were absolutely brutal.  With the wind coming across the lake, almost the entire swim was in whitecap conditions, which resulted in almost 5 minutes over my projected swim time.  On the bike, it felt like we were riding into a headwind almost the entire route.  The only portion we had a true tailwind was on some gnarly chip seal.  The run was no better.  It was getting hot, so when the wind was at my back, I was overheating, and when it was blowing in my face to cool me...well, the wind was blowing in my face.

All things considered, everyone raced in the same conditions, so I can't complain too much.  Especially going into the race not completely prepared.

Texas Heat

I've been back in Texas for over three years now, but I've not really concentrated much on speed since I've been back.

Speed + Heat + Humidity = Slow

I forgot just how much the heat affects an attempt to increase pace.  Distance isn't an issue for the most part, but trying to do speed/tempo work proves incredibly difficult.  I just have to remember that if I put in the work, it will all pay off when the temperatures start to drop in the fall.

Another 100

Today I registered for the Arkansas Traveller 100 miler.  Guess its time to start running!  October 4th will be here way too soon.

I'm taking a slightly different approach to training this time around, which I'll post more about later.

Texas 4000: Thoughts from 10 years later

Ten years ago today, forty of us started pedaling toward Alaska.  Much has changed in the past 10 years, but barely a day goes by that I don't reflect on the summer of 2004 in one way or another.  As an Aggie who somehow "infiltrated" a Texas student organization, I always suspected there was a bit of initial resentment that I was an outsider from a hated rival that had made it into the group.  Though, if that was the case, it was never outwardly apparent to me.  No one ever made a comment, it was just purely a feeling I always had.  If there truly was any resentment, it definitely melted away with the miles and over the years.  Those who I keep in contact with and I see treat me as one of their own.

To me, being a part of a "rival's" organization was somewhat of a representation of the in-discrimination that cancer has.  Cancer doesn't care if you are a longhorn or an aggie.  Cancer doesn't care if you are black, white, orange, muslim, jewish, or christian.  We were all there for the same reason, regardless of our backgrounds.  I feel incredibly lucky to have been a part of such a wonderful organization.

Texas 4000 was obviously an personal experience.  I got to see and do things that many people will never be afforded.  Yet the trip was much more than that.  I allowed me to grow as a person and reflect on life in a completely new way.  Hopefully, we affected many people along the way in a similar fashion.

The organization has changed and grown leaps and bounds over the past ten years.  That was apparent just from joining the Atlas Ride yesterday.  The growth and popularity of the organization is a good thing for both those involved and the charity, but its hard for me to imagine setting out on that journey with so much set in stone prior to a single pedal stroke.  For me, part of the journey was the unknown.

Regardless of what you think of Lance Armstrong, one thing he said has always stuck with me: Its not about the bike.  He's right its not; it's about all the things that surround the bike ride.

Pandora's Box of Rox

On Saturday, Katie and I went out to Reveille Peak Ranch and ran Pandora's Box of Rox.  Since we are still in our building/base training, we both opted for the half marathon option.  We've previously run a race out at RPR, so I knew the terrain was challenging.  With that in mind, and the rising temperatures, we set out at a manageable pace to keep plenty of gas in the tank for the later miles.  For a good chunk of the race, Katie and I sort of leapfrogged each other.  I'm definitely feeling stronger on the hills.  Although I don't feel faster, my legs are not fatiguing as quickly as before.  I'm fully attributed that to taking up TRX a couple times a week, which has also strengthened my core.  Eventually I pulled away from Katie and felt like I was moving at a pretty good pace, even as the temperature climbed.  I did trip over a rock and hit the ground pretty hard, losing the skin off my knee.  After that, I slowed down a bit and tried to be more careful as I picked my way through the trails.  Once I hit the 2 hour mark, I felt the tank hit empty.  Luckily, I knew I was only about 2 miles from the finish, much of which was downhill.  I finished in just over 2:13, which isn't blazing, but was a time I felt good about on a tough course.  I finished 25th out of about 140 people, so I couldn't complain too much.  I have a long way to go, but each little win is a step in the right direction.

the dreaded DNF.

Well, the race wasn't meant to be, I guess.  First, my goggles came off when I hopped in the pool.  I had to get those back on and by that point, I guess my brain decided it was time to panic.  I couldn't catch my breath and struggled in the pool.  I must have looked like I didn't even know how to swim.  When I finally got out of the pool and went to transition, I had a flat tire.  At that point, I decided to abandon the race.  I didn't have anything with me to change the flat since the race was so short.  One of the volunteers offered to go to her car and get a tube, but I decided to mail it in.

After the race, I went home to run.  Katie and I set out to do 12 miles, but that wasn't meant to be either.  It was ridiculously humid and the temperature shot up.  Additionally, my leg started hurting.  I limped, ran, jog, walked, and complained my way through about 11 of the 12 miles.  All-in-all, it was one crappy training/racing day.

First Tri of the season

Tomorrow morning, I'll be doing my first tri of the season.  Its a super sprint, which really just means "super short."  Since the race is definitely not an "A" race, and probably not even an "C" race, I'm just going to red-line it the whole time.  I'll either have a good race or completely blow up.  Its only a 200m swim, 7 mile bike, and a 2 mile run.  If I blow up, it'll likely be at the 1 mile mark on the run, so suffering will be minimal.  We'll see how the tactic works.  Tune in tomorrow...

Escaping the trap

Its no secret to those that know me that I've fallen out of the kind of shape I was in a couple years ago.  I've eaten too much Mexican food and drank too much beer.  I'm still probably in better shape than most of America, but I'm a long, long way from any PRs.  Falling out of shape didn't happen overnight, but rather was caused by a series of occurrences.  The first, and probably the most major, was moving back to Texas.  When I left NYC, I lost my teammates, training partners, coach, accountability, and a lot of my motivation.  The second major piece was a little bit of mental burnout after stringing together two Ironmans and a 100 mile run, plus all the training, in a two year period.  I decided to dial back the training and take a break, however, when I tried to get back into things, my entire support infrastructure was gone, and I struggled.

My previous attempts at getting back in racing shape have been thwarted by my own mistakes, mainly doing too much too soon.  It was hard to put the notion of big miles out of my head, despite the fact that my body hasn't been physically ready for that toll.  In my head, I was still an Ironman.  I was still a low 3 hour marathoner, and I was still a 100 mile runner.  I'd log a few weeks of medium distance and then start piling on the mileage.  What resulted was a series of nagging issues that ended up putting me back on the sideline drinking beer or running races "for fun."  "For fun" would be the phrase I used to disguise the fact that I wasn't in shape and was internally angry at myself for not being able to run fast.  As a coach, I knew better.  Yet, I repeated the pattern over and over.  No matter how many times I told others the correct way, I was turning around and doing the opposite.

I'm now on the path to success.  I've forced myself to go back to the basics and slowly build.  I'm now in week 5 of a base building program, before shifting into a true distance training block for the summer/fall.  Additionally, I've started doing TRX to build up my core and supplement my run training.  I've noticed big gains in time to fatigue in my quads, especially when running hills.  This isn't to say that I'm running fast yet, but I'm noticing differences in how my body feels on runs.  Additionally, I've noticed that my legs feel stronger on the bike as well.  Yes, I'm incorporating rides and swims to my routine as well.  It seems like a lot, but the riding and swimming is low-impact, and I'm listening to my body.  I've taken days off when I felt overly fatigued.  The last piece that is contributing to success again is finding a group run.  Its not the same as a training group or a team, but at least one day a week, I'm running with others, including people that are faster than me.  Its bringing that social aspect back, and causing me to push myself a little more than normal.

Sometimes its best to just step back and start over.

Spin class, my own personal hell

It's no secret. I hate spin class, or any sort of "stationary" exercise really. However, I am learning to tolerate it. I've been doing spin classes at work during lunch, but the instructors aren't the greatest. Yesterday, after doing the regular lunch spin, Katie and I went to Pure and took an hour and a half class taught by an instructor who races. What a difference.  She destroyed my legs, and the class flowed in a way that felt shorter than my lunch spin.

I will always prefer to ride outside,  but I will definitely be going back to the Tuesday class at Pure.

Overall,  yesterday was a solid training day. I got in about 2:10 on the bike and added an easy 2 mile run after the longer spin class.

Tonight, I did a quick run with Jens, and now I'm headed to the gym to test out my chest in the pool. I've had what is believed to be inflammation in my rib cage, so swimming and lifting have been set aside for almost 2 weeks.

First brick of the season

Katie and I put down our first real brick of the season today.  We knocked out an hour and a half on the bike, with the second half riding into a stiff wind.  I'm definitely starting to feel the strength return to my legs, but I've still got a long way to go before March 30.  I consider myself extremely lucky to be able to get in outdoor rides in January.  This is the time of year in NYC when I had the bike put up for the winter.  Now, if we could just get to the time change, I could ride outside after work too and stop going to so many spin classes.

After the ride, we made the short drive over to Georgetown Lake and did a 30 minute run on the Goodwater loop.  It was actually very warm on the run, and Katie and I both struggled quite a bit on the short run.  By the next brick, I'll hopefully feel much stronger on the run portion.

My long lost friend Mo

Last week I reconnected with an old training buddy of mine.  Mo and I really haven't seen much of each other since I moved back to Texas, especially since finishing Ironman Texas.  We sort of kept in touch on and off through my training over the past couple years, but it was mostly fleeting.  Last Monday, we finally got together and made it through an entire week of training together.  Mo was there for every workout, even sometimes reminding me that I'm "fat and slow."  He was a little mean about it, but it was needed to get me out the door a couple times.  Mo was there with me to push me through the last laps in the pool when I really wanted to get out.  He was there when I had to sit on a spin bike for an hour due to it being too cold outside.  Mo was there when the wind was blowing 20+ mph in my face on my Saturday ride.

I was 7/7 in workouts last week, my first week of HIM training, which is a pretty solid week for me.  Its sad that I'm excited for not missing a workout, but I've gotten really bad over the past couple years.

Mon - 30 min swim
Tues - 1 hour spin, 30 min run
Wed - 30 min swim
Thurs - 45 min spin, track work
Fri - 30 min swim
Sat - 1 hour swim, 1.5 hour cycling
Sun - 1 hour run

Mr. Tivation seems to me with me again this week, and I'm hoping that we'll continue to train together for a long, long time.

Many thanks to MoTivation for helping me through the week.