Dear Weather Gods...
Friday, February 29, 2008
To whom it may concern up there:
When I said that I "loved winter running" I did not have in mind the following:
- Inches and inches of sugar-snow mixed with sand so as to make running in Madison akin to running on a beach, just without the waves, soft breeze, or balmy temperatures;
- Paths along roads that look like sidewalks, and act like sidewalks, and seemingly used to be sidewalks, but that have somehow been transformed into 3' x 4-mile ice rinks;
- Temperatures so cold that my Vizslas have actually refused to venture outside;
- An outdoor landscape where even the middle of the road isn't a safe place to run, given the ice-packed medians, and whole side streets that look more like bobsled tracks for cars;
- Rain, then snow, then rain...all in the same day;
- More of that scheduled for Sunday.
And if you think I'm whining, I'm not. I have company. Here, here, and here. And I'm sure elsewhere, too.
And I know we chose to live here and all of that -- blah blah blah-- but this has passed the point of ridiculousness. So please make it stop. Now.
Thanks, Erin
Posted by Erin 11:00 AM 6 comments
Game On
Thursday, February 28, 2008
In breaking with my usual m.o. of never pre-registering for any race, I just hit "register now" for this:
Posted by Erin 4:54 PM 3 comments
Of Fishes and Bicycles
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
A week ago Saturday, I put myself back in the water for the first time since September 9th.
It was a gray day. Not much going on. After an extraordinarily busy few weeks, Chief of Stuff and I, mercifully, had no plans that evening. He asked what we should do. I'm sure he was thinking something along the lines of if we should stay in and cook dinner or go out...order a movie On Demand, or go to see one in the theater.
I said, "Swim!"
I don't know where it came from, this sudden desire to go aquatic in the midst of yet another snowstorm, but as soon as I said it, that was all I wanted to do.
CoS looked at me skeptically. It wasn't like he wasn't ready to swim, after all. He had all the gear. He just had yet to actually get in the water.
We went through what he'd need for a session at the pool. Flip-flops, towel, goggles, shorts, etc., etc. Good reminders for me, as well. Although I was pleased to find that my swimming bag was still neatly packed from last season, and pretty much everything I needed was already in there -- including a fresh towel.
During the drive to the pool, I began to see that the excitement I felt about swimming wasn't shared by everyone in the car. From the passenger's seat, CoS launched question after question at me: "How much should you kick?," "What's the key thing to remember?," "How fast should you go,?"
"Don't worry so much," I told him. "It's not like you're going to drown."
And then he asked,"So how do you breathe?"
Simple enough question, but I didn't really know. I didn't know how I did it...I just did.
Wrong thing to say, though, I guess.
He asked how I could just sit there and tell him to relax and not worry when breathing came so naturally to me that I couldn't even explain how I did it.
Truth was, I had no idea. I tried to explain, but I couldn't figure out when I breathed, or where my arm was in rotation when I did it, or anything else about how I swam.
And then, I said even more wrong things. About how, during some particularly grueling training swims for the Ironman, and during the Ironman itself, I caught myself thinking, "I feel like a fish," in the best possible way. As in, minus the gills, I felt completely at home in the water. Comfortable. Safe. Totally at ease.
One could see how this wouldn't help. At all.
I was nervous too, though. Had I forgotten how to swim? Would the me that put down a sub-1:30 Ironman swim be a me of the past, for good? Or would it be like riding a bike?
Long story short, we made it to the pool without any major meltdowns, and no one drowned. No one even came close. CoS and I did some drills, and I marveled at how my body floats easily at times when CoS's lean frame tends to...well, not float. Legs mainly. Chalk that one up to the high-numbered result I got on the body composition test I had done a few weeks back, I guess. Sigh.
I got in a handful of 100s, and pulled out the fly now and then. And breathed deep that chlorine smell. It spoke to me a bit, that smell, as smells and tastes sometimes do. Because suddenly, I was back there, on a hard workout at the end of the day when the last thing I wanted to do was climb into a swimsuit. Back there where I didn't know yet if I could...if I would...pull this thing called Ironman off. Back there where I simply got into the water, and swam, stroke-after-stroke, until I knew that I could do it for 2.4. Great feelings all, and suddenly, being back there, so close to them, I was giddy again with excitement. The pool was closing; but I didn't want to go home. I wanted to feel my shoulders burn on a 400, feel my lungs burn and heave after a 100 IM.
It was good to be back there...and to be at the beginning of getting back in general. That's been a constant battle this winter, what with the mental Ironman recovery I battled, the never-ending white stuff and freezing rain, and now, this new gig I'm doing (that's tres fun but a huge time commitment), but if I have to start a hundred times over again, I will. This fish is back on the bike, figuratively, and hopefully soon, literally.
Posted by Erin 11:31 AM 2 comments
Slothness
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
That's me. It's been exactly 11 days since I've run. Eleven days. And in that time, I've taken only one additional trip to the gym to fit in a too-quick lifting workout.
That is pathetic.
I'm embarrassed at me. Em-bar-assed.
I could blame it on my job, and job change. I could blame it on the weather. Or the killer who's in our neighborhood. But the truth is, I just haven't gotten it done.
Like last night. I got home from traveling for work at 10 p.m.. I could've gone for a run. It was cold, yes. But I've run in worse. And it was late, yes. But how to explain, then, that I stayed up until 2 a.m., drinking wine, as an excuse to catch up with Chief of Stuff after not seeing him for two days?...And as result of the wine-drinking/overindulgence, that I couldn't drag myself out of bed before reporting to work early enough to get a run in.
Sloth. That's how.
And now, as a result of the past almost two weeks of not doing a damn thing, I feel chubby and out of shape when I was right in the middle of building such a good base. And sad. For me. Let's not forget that. Because I have a wedding in Vegas to attend in a month. And my own wedding in about 10. Oh, and a marathon in May. Which is practically tomorrow.
Lord help me.
So, it's starting tomorrow. Again.
But seriously, how many times am I going to re-start? It's never been this hard before to stay on track. And yes, that's me whining. Just tune me out.
Tomorrow, the temps are supposed to climb into double-digits. And I plan to be well-rested and up early (for me). And I plan to run.
We'll see what happens. Stay tuned.
Posted by Erin 3:10 PM 4 comments