...who thought it would be funny to gun his engine, and then pass me on my bike with oh, maybe 4 inches to spare: I hope it made you feel like a big man.
Just be aware that next time, I think I'll borrow one of my buddy Howard's moves and slam my fist into the side of your car.
Literally. I plunked down the money for a silver membership to Beginner Triathlete, and uploaded a plan into my online training log. I was going to use the Beginner Ironman plan, but based on what I've already been doing, I decided to go with the 20 week Intermediate Ironman plan. I in no way believe that I am an intermediate, let me put that straight right away. But the beginner plan seemed a might bit overcautious.
From the get go, the swims in my plan are a lot more. Earlier in the week a had a 3000, and the pool I swim at (UofL) had switched to long course for the day, so it was a bit tough (mainly because the middle 2000 were drills, one of which involved me swimming with my hands in fists. Not fun.). I had an 1800 yesterday, but then today was a 4000 (the pool was back to short course). That is farther than I have ever swum in one go. Ever. In my whole life. Yes, I was on a swim team, but it was summer league, not high school or college or anything like that. And mind you that it was not my first or only workout today.
And as an aside, just let me say that biking on flat roads is glorious. Ben and I rode River Road from downtown to Hays Kennedy Park in Prospect, and for us, we were flying. At least there, anyway. The return trip was all pretty much into a headwind, but I did use my aerobars a lot for the first time, and wasn't completely scared by it. Woo hoo! (isn't it cute how the little things excite me so?)
Since I can only run so far with only myself as company, I've been doing my long runs with my buddies at Fleet Feet. Last weekend, we ran 12 miles, wandering around Algonquin Park and back by the zoo. Though I finished, I spent the majority of the run wanting - nay, hoping - that I would puke. The previous night's dinner (babah ganoush, fatoush, and falafel from this awesome, cheap joint around the corner) kept coming back to visit. I've eaten this same combination many times before (and several times the night before a run), but this time, it did not like me. Needless to say, I was praying that this week's run would go better.
And for me, at least, it did. For poor Kara (Howard's daughter), it did not. Our merry group set off (this time to cut through the park and then meander down Frankfort Ave), but by the time we got to the first mile, something cramped up in Kara's side and would not let go. She dropped back, and rejoined us at a water fountain a mile and a half or so later. Ben was keeping pace with Donna and Harry, and Howard had a girl named Sara to talk to, so I decided to drop back with Kara.
It took about 8 miles for whatever was bugging Kara to finally go away, and by then, even though we had talked about cutting the run short (to about 10 instead of 12), we were so far out it was at least 4 miles back to the store. We had a system going - any time we saw a red light ahead, we'd go ahead and walk, since we'd have to stop and wait once we got there anyway. We'd take a little longer to start running after each time our gang regrouped to map out the next section of the run. We'd stop to look at houses for sale (Ben and I are going to be putting our house on the market soon). Any reason we could find for a 15 second walk break, we took it (see what you missed, Debi?). It was glorious. At first, Kara encouraged me to go on, keep running, she'd catch up. She didn't seem to understand - Walk? Oh, no. Don't make me walk. I *hate* walking - but quickly caught on. We then spent the rest of the run looking at clothes in store windows as we ran by, standing up taller when male runners passed, and in general being catty because we could be.
So even though it was cold and windy, I was tired, and Kara was in pain, we still managed to have a good run. And we even got our 12 miles in.
Though you can't really tell, I was sweating like one of those people from a Gatorade commercial. Except that my sweat wasn't blue.
*Taken after a 2800 swim followed by an hour and a half on the damned trainer.
** Are my eyes not facing the same direction?
*** Kinda looks like a myspace 'angles' shot, doesn't it?
