96 miles, 96 degrees*

* Okay, so it was 95.93 miles and it was over 100 degrees by the time I finished, but it doesn't quite have the same ring to it.

The day began early. Very early. It's really hard to set the alarm for 6:15 on a weekend when it's not a race. But the temperatures were expected to reach over 100 and I had a long ride ahead of me. So it was either suffer early, or suffer late (at which point I'd probably be 30 miles from home). So the alarm went off and I snoozed. Fortunately I had factored that in. I finally dragged myself up, took the dogs out for a quick walk, and was on the rode by 7:10. I am not a great rider to begin with, but riding just out of bed is really not my thing. My legs just didn't feel as they had been, but that's what being tired does to you.

By 9am, I was almost at Carter Lake having just done the Wisconsin Rollers. Again. It does really suck that it's such a short section of road. My phone rang. I thought it was weird because everyone knew I had this really long ride and who the hell would otherwise be calling me so early on a weekend. I pulled over and got out my phone. Missed call from Adam (brother). Missed call from Rachel (sister-in-law). Missed call from Lavonne (stepmom). Shit! That feeling of dread hit my stomach like a brick. What the hell happened? And I'm 30+ miles from home. I listened to the first message from Adam, who sounded like my stomach felt. He didn't give me much information other than my dad needed emergency eye surgery and to call him. I won't say that it wasn't bad, because the whole situation did really suck, but I was imagining much worse. My dad has been dealing with eye issues for the last 5 months. He had just had his second surgery a few days beforehand, but I guess something went wrong. One of the options was to put a gas bubble in his eye (he had oil in it before). The problem with gas is that it has to stay at a certain pressure, which meant that he'd have to stay at the same altitude. The problem with that is that surgery was in Denver, elevation 5280 feet and my dad lives in Nederland, elevation 8000 feet. So of course he could stay with me or Adam, or both, if that was the better option. We got the logistics somewhat squared away, but surgery wasn't going to be until much later and so I was off again. Though not quite with the same oomph I was starting to get to before.

The rest of the ride went like this:
* Quick water stop at the bottom of the lake
* Up to the lake and over/around.
* Headed north towards Loveland into unchartered territories
* Started getting nervous about water supplies and not sure what was up ahead, so turned around a little early and headed back towards Carter.
* Did that awful little jog back to the water hose at the bottom of the lake. This was the second time on this painful stretch of road. At this point it was starting to get damn hot and I felt like I was frying.
* Not so quick refill this time.
* Back across the Wisconsin rollers
* Painful hot stretch towards 75th. I think I may have started hallucinating at this point.
* After what seemed like an eternity, I made it to Hygiene where I refilled and sat under the trees for at least 30 minutes. Only 20 miles to go.
* Stopped again at Tom Watson park, which is only like 8 miles away but I already felt like an almost dead man crawling through the desert. 12 miles to go.
* Slowly made my way over to Baseline.
* Even more slowly made the long climb up Baseline to 95th.
* Crossed the railroad tracks 1 mile from home and lost my water bottles. I wanted to cry and I stopped to go back and get them. I might need them for that last little stretch.
* Home sweet home.

After checking the current temperature (100.2), I promptly laid down on the living room floor directly under the ceiling fan and didn't move for 20 minutes. Forget the run I was supposed to do. Even if I had been able to, it just seemed like a really stupid idea to try and run in 100 degrees after having spent 6 hours frying on my bike. But being that I really couldn't get off of the floor, it wasn't much of an issue.

But I did it. I ran a very slow 13 miles the next morning (another morning setting the alarm before 7). My legs were a bit tired but I think I was way more exhausted from the heat. It just zapped everything from me. I'm not quite sure how I pulled it off, but I ended the weekend feeling a lot more prepared for IMMOO. Worse case scenario come Sept. 12...if it's 95 degrees on race day, I can get through it. It just might not be too pretty.

Boulder Peak Race Report

The last time I raced the Peak was in 2007. I was sick and it was anything but pretty. Getting up Olde Stage is hard enough. Getting up Olde Stage when you're sick and can't breathe is near impossible. On 36 leading up to the turn on Nelson, I ran into Adam, walking his bike because he had a flat and his CO2 cartridge failed. I gave him mine and then desperately hoped for a flat so I could quit with respect. It didn't happen and I staggered on to one of my worst Olympic finishes -  right up there with racing in 40 degrees and rain. I expected this year to be drastically different.

I actually felt pretty rested going into this race. At least more so than L2L. I switched out my gearing the weekend before and my final spin up Olde Stage a few days before was so much easier! Wow! 27s are AMAZING! Well, for Olde Stage that is.

I felt like I got to the Sprint insanely early, so I gave myself a little less time. Stupid mistake. Of course there are way more people at the Peak. I got stuck in the traffic line as soon as I turned off of Jay. And I wouldn't say it was moving quickly. Fortunately I've been really good this year about not panicking and I was surprisingly calm. After all, there are only so many ways to set up ones transition spot. I finally was ushered into a parking spot and made the long walk to transition. My body marker was awesome. After I told her my age, she said "I don't believe that for a minute" and made my day. She also happened to be the wave leader for my wave as we were lined up the beach and got everyone going with cheering.

A quick comment about numbering: why the hell to the men get the low numbers and the women get the high numbers? Let's think about this. Our arms are so much smaller, much less surface area, hence much less writing area. So doesn't it makes sense to give us the 3-digit numbers rather than trying to get 4-digit numbers and have it come down past your elbow. I just don't get it.

Anyhow, I got marked and picked up my timing chip, trying to avoid the Bossy Volunteer from last time, who literally does everything by the book. Fortunately she was yelling at someone else. I made my way through transition only to find the racks full. That's what happens when you're sitting in the traffic jam. I counted 7 bikes on one rack and noticed that people had their stuff spread out like a picnic blanket. Why on earth do people need that much room? Maybe this is why we end up with 4-digit numbers. I asked to squeeze in, which would require moving someone's stuff (unless they were really two people wide), and people actually balked. "Well, we don't really have room" and "I don't know who's stuff that is". I tried to explain that there were only 7 bikes racked and there should be room for 8 and the whole time I was in shock that people were making such a fuss. I always seen people be exceptionally nice at these moments, sometimes offering a spot before even being asked. I mean, it's not like it was the end rack. So I just moved on and found a rack with fewer bikes. And nicer people. At this point I probably had about 5 minutes to set up before they closed transition. When I was heading over to my rack, I ran into Adam who was waiting in line for the bathrooms. Him: "Did you just get here?" Me: "Uh, yeah" Him: "What happened?" Me: "Traffic". Mental note: arrive early for 70.3.

Fortunately I didn't need much time to set up and for once I didn't need to use the bathroom. I'm really not sure how I managed that but I'd like to try and work this into my regular pre-race routine, because the last thing I need is to be gagging after I've struggled so hard to force food into my body.

I headed down to the beach and waited for my start.

I was a little disappointed to learn that it would be the same clockwise swim as the sprint. I can handle the sprint because it's short, but the longer distances, I prefer counter clockwise due to me breathing on my left. Another strike against Ironman. When we entered the water, I went to the front line since no one else was. The problem was that I again chose the outside, which is fine if it's counter clockwise because then I can see where I need to be and can eventually start to cut in. Doesn't work so well the other way. The gun went off and I started swimming wide. I zigged and zagged because I couldn't stay straight, but at least I was making forward progress. All of a sudden I slammed into something. It was a very large man from several waves ahead of me at a near dead stop in the water. He had to be treading water because his body was vertical, hence me slamming into to. But my first thought was that I had swam into a manatee. Brains are weird.

Fortunately Ironman decided to explain the swim course after the race started and we were not to do a 90 degree turn at the far buoy. The swim course was shaped like a house (square with a triangle on top). I got to the top of the triangle and started back to shore. Unfortunately, I somehow ended up heading towards the buoy I had just come from. And even more unfortunately, the kayakers decided to let me almost reach this wrong buoy before stopping me to tell me I was going the wrong way and needed to go waaaayyy over there. Thanks. And no, I was not by myself. There were quite a few of us that made this detour. Well, there goes my swim. I finally made it back to shore and didn't have any run-ins with things sticking into my feet like at the Stroke n'Stride a few days before.

Fortunately someone had pointed out a star-shaped balloon on the rack before mine, so I didn't have too much trouble finding my bike (you'd think having a yellow and orange bike would be sufficient, but it's amazing how it blends in). And off to the ride.

I didn't feel quite as good on the bike as I was hoping to. During the sprint, by the time I got to Jay, I was ready to fly. This time around, by the time I got to Jay, I was ready to turn around. It doesn't help knowing that Olde Stage is looming ahead. I pushed the thought out of mine and just continued forward. At least the hill is at the beginning. The climb felt a lot harder than a few days before, of course, I hadn't been swimming or riding hard going into it. But at least I had my faithful 27. I got to the steep part and saw Mike the Devil, who came running over and proceeded to run with me for a bit. That helped except when he asked how I was feeling and I could barely breathe to respond. I think I told him to ask me again when I got to the top. I wouldn't say the top came before I knew it, but I did eventually reach it and started the long descent. I actually got cold on the ride down but that didn't last long. I played leap frog with a few women on the rollers on 63rd - I catch them on the hills and they catch me on the flats. The one downside of the 27 meant I lost the 11. I felt like I was struggling at times but overall felt like I was doing much better than previous years. I got passed by Adam right before the turn back onto Jay and was pretty psyched that it took him that long to catch up. After that it's just that one last hill and then back into transition.

T2 was equally uneventful thanks to the star balloon. I did a quick shoe swap, grabbed my hat, and was off.

I had a side cramp immediately. I don't even think I made it out of transition before it set in. I told myself to just run through it and it would eventually go away. The cramp thought otherwise. It was so insanely painful - I don't think I've ever had a cramp like this before. It hurt to touch my skin. My run slowed to a shuffle and I tried not to breathe. At one point I actually stopped running to see if the pain would immediately subside. It didn't, so I started running again - I mean if it's going to hurt regardless, might as well run. The most comfortable position I could find involved pushing my stomach out. But it's really hard to run and do that at the same time. The two are sort of opposing forces. The cramp finally subsided shortly after mile 2, at which point I was finally able to run like I wanted to. I had a great run at the Stroke n'Stride a few days before and had been hoping for similar. Unfortunately the cramp put a damper on that for 2 miles, but I was able to really pick up the pace after that. My goal was 2:50. I rounded the corner to the finish and saw the clock at 3:10 and change (I started 20 minutes after the start). I had to smile. It was still in the 2:50 minute, so I'd say it counted. Either way, I still PR'd by 6 minutes even with a swim detour and a cramp. I'll take it.

swim: 29:11
t1: 1:55
bike: 1:25:33 (18.3 mph)
t2: 1:13
run: 52:54 (8:32 pace)
total: 2:50:44

age group: 28/105
females: 114/541
overall: 524/1347

And I have to say that Ironman is starting to get it together a bit more. Of course, I went to packet pickup on Friday and avoided the rush, but there were way more volunteers working and the layout made a lot more sense. And although we got the same hideous race bag, at least the t-shirts were technical this time.

Stroke n' Stride #6

First Stroke n' Stride of the season. I did it more to support a friend and to get in another open water swim before the Peak. And despite some slight mishaps*, it went pretty well. I believe the swim was long, so I believe I am happy with my swim results. My transition was slower than molasses as I was checking in on said friend who was not staying for the run. But I was happy with this as well - it made me feel a lot calmer to be able to chat with friends and took some of the pressure off of myself. I was very happy (and surprised) with my run. It's amazing what rest and an easy week can do...

*slight mishaps:
- Too many jellybeans on the drive over to the Res
- I left my goggles and swimcap in the car and didn't realize it until about 5 minutes before the start of the race.
- Ditto for picking up my timing chip
- During the run over to both the car and the booth, the jellybeans took their revenge. I immediately felt insanely full and about to throw up. This made for a very uncomfortable run between swim laps and an even more uncomfortable run.
- I stepped on a sticker of sorts as I stood up to exit the water. It is a bad idea to try and balance on one leg to examine the opposite foot immediately after swimming a 1500. It is an even worse idea to try and do this while still in the water.
- There is such a thing as too many jelly beans, despite what Ronald Reagan may have said.

swim lap 1: 14:39 (yikes!)
swim lap 2: 16.22 (even more yikes!)
T: 2:06 (I definitely dawdled)
run: 23.58 (7:44 pace)

total: 57:04

age group: 2/7 (kind of funny after my last posting)
females: 13/41
overall: 39/103

Afterthoughts...Appreciation

So after wavering for some time between being okay and being not okay with my L2L results, I started thinking about why I wasn't okay with them. I mean, considering the circumstances, it was a really good race. I should rephrase - considering my circumstances, it was a really good race. Because let's face it. Many people go into races with their own circumstances. And I'm sure some do much better than me and some do much worse. But maybe they're okay with the results.

Last weekend, as I was heading into the final stretch of the run before heading back into the park, a man was pretty much just starting his run. He was pushing a stroller, with whom I'm assuming was his son. It was very much in the spirit of Team Hoyt, who are nothing less than inspiring. Talk about selflessness. These men are doing these races entirely for someone else. Sure, they get something out of it was well I'm sure. But they are giving up speed and winning for something so much bigger. It reminded me of Vineman two years ago. I was way at the back of the pack, sick and feeling sorry for myself. A wheelchair athlete passed us going the other direction (heading towards the finish). As he passed us, he yelled something along the lines of "You guys are my heros!". That sort of killed the feeling sorry for myself - I had absolutely no right to do so.

So why do I keep letting this happen? Not to be pessimistic, but I'm not going to be winning my age group any time soon. It's Boulder after all. And at one point I thought I might have a chance when I'm 70, but then I realized that I'd still be racing against the same people. I think I've accepted this, but where I'm struggling is the happy medium between not winning, but still doing better. My biggest competitor is myself. At what point is being better good enough? If I'm one second faster, that should be sufficient because I'm faster. It's important to have goals, but it's also important to have fun.

So, I should be happy with being 15th (the Sprint), or 10th (L2L) in my age group. And now that I've had some time to think about it, I am. I'm a lot closer to the top than I am to the bottom and that definitely counts for something.

Training Through...Lake to Lake Race Report

 

I'm not using this as an excuse, but I do need to preface this report with a disclaimer. Craig asked me last weekend if I was okay with training through Lake to Lake. And since Wisconsin is what I'm focusing on and since Wisconsin is right around the corner and since I don't feel like I'm close to being ready, I said yes. That was before I got my training schedule. *Since the disclaimer is really long, I put it at the end so that this still seems like it's a race report as opposed to a history of my week. Read at your own discretion.

The nice thing about this race was that it was on Saturday, which meant that I could still enjoy part of the weekend. The bad thing about this race is that it's on a Saturday so I felt like my pre-race routine was all thrown off. So after coming off of a full day of work, I had to get up at 3:30a on Saturday morning. Yes. That's really early. I tried to force myself to go to bed early, but when it doesn't get dark until 9:30 it's sort of hard to do. I wouldn't say I slept great, but I did sleep for a bit without the horrible OMG I forgot my bike sort of dreams. I woke up at one point half convinced I had overslept. But I was pretty sure I had set the alarm correctly and was afraid that if I looked at the clock, it would say that I only had 15 more minutes to sleep. In which case I would have not gone back to sleep and have just counted down the minutes. But on the other hand, if I had not set the alarm right, then I might oversleep and miss the race. Of course, it's insanely early, so maybe I'd be okay with that. In the end I talked myself out of checking and the alarm went off as planned however many minutes later. 

When we did this race 2 years ago, we were one of the first to get to the site and had no line to contend with for packet pickup. Except that they didn't have Matt's registration for whatever reason. And we had to wait until Someone Important showed up to clarify everything. Well, Someone Important was really late and by the time he finally got everything squared away, the transition area was pretty full and we had to squeeze our way in. I didn't want to run the risk of dealing with that again, so I was out the door at 3:45. 

Which was way too early.

I got to the race at 4:30. There were all of 2 other people there. At least I got a good parking spot. But packet pickup didn't open until 5 and transition until 5:15. I tried to sleep for a bit, but it wasn't really working. Around 4:50, people were starting to see if the building was open, so I headed over as well. There were no lines and no issues and I was back at the car 10 minutes later. I dawdled for quite some time getting stickers on and what not, so by the time I headed over to transition, all of the front racks were taken. Knowing that I would have a very difficult time finding my bike (since racks were not numbered, not that that helped me last weekend) so I headed towards the middle so that I could get the end of a rack and be able to see my bike as I was running up the aisle. It did mean that I'd have to run more with my bike, but I figured that was still better than running around looking for my bike. I got everything set up and put my running shoes on for a light warmup. It was already getting hot and it's wasn't quite 6 am. It was going to be a hot one. After one last pit stop, I double checked transition, grabbed my wetsuit, and headed down to the beach.

Okay, so here was the problem. If you've read previous race reports, you know that I really struggle to eat in the morning. I had brought a plain bagel with me, thinking I'd have plenty of time to wake up and struggle through it before the race. Well, getting up at 3:30 threw me all out of wack. Or maybe I hadn't eaten enough the night before - I was so tired making dinner that I almost gave up. I don't know. But I started picking at the bagel during the drive, maybe around 4. Only I wasn't really picking at it. I was actually eating it. I had eaten most of it before I had gotten to the race, finishing up the rest of it while applying stickers and dawdling. By 6a, I was starving. I had a gel and figured that would do the trick. It did for a while. About 20 minutes into the ride, I was starving again. And since the first part of the ride is all uphill, I really needed to eat now rather than wait. I had a few Honey Stinger fruit chews and some water. Wasn't doing it. I had some Hammer Perpetuem. Still wasn't doing it. I didn't want to eat too much at once, but I needed something. I finally broke down and had another gel and lots more liquid. All of this caught up with me on the run when I really thought I was going to throw up. *Grossness alert* At one point, something started to come up and somehow I fought it but I had just passed a water stop and now had to wait another mile with this awful taste in my mouth. Lesson learned: eat before a race, but not 2.5 hrs before a race. Find a happier medium.

The Swim:

The waves weren't so much age groups rather than age buckets. They squeezed a whole lot of people into 6 waves. I was in the first wave (nice and early at 6:30), with all the other 35-39 (men and women) and the elites (men and women), and possibly some others thrown into the mix. It's a beach start and I don't remember how I worked it two years ago, but I couldn't figure out where I wanted to be. Starting with the elites, I certainly wasn't going to be front and center. And not knowing where the elites ended and the age groupers began, I ended up hanging back a bit. So I was stuck in the chaos up until the first buoy. I found someone to draft off of, but they were a little too slow so I kept running into their feet. Unfortunately my wetsuit was really rubbing against the back of my neck and it was starting to get painful. So I stayed with my draftee so I wouldn't have to turn my head so much. Heading back to shore, my swimcap felt like it was coming off. I reached up and sure enough, half of my head was exposed. So I kept trying to pull it forward, thinking I didn't have much farther to go, but clearly it was bothering me. I slowed down even more (as though that would keep it on). It was also really hard to figure out where we were supposed to get out of the water until we were pretty close to sure, so for a while, I really wasn't sure where I was going and decided to leave all my trust in the swimmers ahead of me. The problem with this particular swim course is that it's about 1/4 mile from transition, so it's a really long run up the beach, across the field, and then into transition. So not only are you going suddenly from horizontal to vertical, you now have to run 1/4 mile in a rubber suit. But so does everyone else...

T1:
 I didn't have any issues finding my bike this time (I would have felt really stupid if I had). I've been practicing my sockless rides and this was going to be the inaugural race. I figured it would save me so much time because I wouldn't have to dry my feet and try to put socks on wet feet. However, my feet were covered in grass and I felt like I had to get most of that off before putting shoes on or something was going to start poking me. I think I saved a total of 5 seconds. Maybe a little more because the transition area is on grass, which is awesome, because you can actually run on it in bike shoes and not really have to worry about wiping out. The thing is that you exit down a short little hill and then onto the parking lot to mount - so you can't be going too fast or wipeout is inevitable.

The Bike:
I remember the bike course being awful for the first half. It took me a while to get into a rhythm. But I was hoping for something different this time. Things seemed to start of better. The first few miles are some ups and downs and I seemed to be handling them okay. But once out of town, there's a long gradual climb until you get to the two big hills. This is where I died. I just couldn't find a good pace and was being passed right and left (well, left and more left). This was also where I got really hungry. My legs ached and I really didn't feel like I had it in me. My "training through" had caught up with me. I was really hoping that I'd be able to pull through and get at least the same or faster bike split during this race. I really wanted something to show that I was improving (my 1 second PR from last weekend wasn't quite what I was looking for). But I felt like I was starting giving up, and I just couldn't get my legs to move. I kept reminding myself that I was tired and that I had a really long week, but it just seemed like an excuse. And so I plodded on with this argument in my head. Once I got to the big climbs, I did feel better and was able to pick up my cadence and eventually my pace. I remember passing people on the climb two years ago and put that image into my head. I don't remember if I actually made it happen again, but I did get passed towards the top of the final climb, but I was sort of expecting it. The rest of the ride was much better - maybe because it's mostly downhill. But even the rollers felt pretty good. I wouldn't say I felt strong, but stronger than I had started. There would be no PR today - it was just a matter of hanging on. Once past the rollers, the rest of the ride is fast and the testosterone kicks in and the guys go flying past. It's a little weird on the final stretch because they close the entire lefthand side of the road. So do I ride on the right, which is actually the middle of the road, or stick to the curb. It wasn't quite as much of a dilemma as before, but it does make you think. Someone had crashed on the turn into this road and we had to swing wide around them. It's sort of unsettling to see someone sprawled out on the ground with paramedics on their way. It's also not a good picture to have in your mind. So I backed off a bit and let the testosterone through and started mentally getting ready for the run.

T2:
The dismount was fine, though a little slippery. But I struggled trying to push my bike up the short little hill into transition. Tiredness had clearly set in. I had put my bag at the front of the rack facing outwards so I'd know where to stop on the run back. I knocked one of my water bottles off while racking my bike and had to pick it up. I know I should have left it, but it was all of 5 seconds. I did have to take a little extra time as well to put on socks - I'm not sure I'm ready to try running sockless anytime soon. And then off again.

The Run:
The run starts off cutting across the field and down a steep hill out of the park, with the steep hill sort of catapulting you out of the park and onto the road. It's an out and back course, which is great because you get to see and cheer on the winners. And it's no so great in that you can see everyone that is ahead of you, but that really doesn't matter for me as there is always someone ahead of me. I don't really love the course. The options are to run on the road, which is banked, or to run on the sidewalk, and deal with all of the ups and downs of people's driveways. The last little bit by the turnaround is the only level surface, but a good deal of it is totally exposed. But it's only 6 miles, right? Things started off well - better than last week with no cramping. But I was really full at this point. Big surprise considering all I had eaten. I saw Adam around mile 2 and he was heading home. Suddenly 4 miles felt like a lot. I made it to the turnaround without any issue, but heading back, I started to feel like I was going to throw up. If you're reading from the beginning, you already know what happens so I won't go into it again. But it wasn't pleasant. I just took it one step at a time and soon I was back in the park, approaching the world's cruelest finish line. Recap from two years ago: as I was entering the park, a volunteer directing us was cheering everyone on and said "only 1/2 mile left". And I thought "yeah, right". She doesn't how far a 1/2 mile is. Besides, we're back in the park, close to the beach, so it's what, maybe 1/4 mile. Time to start kicking it. Well, she was right. Every bend I went around, there was always a person still in front of me. I could hear the finish line, just couldn't see it. At one point, we ran along this waterway and I looked across it and saw people still running, but the other way. Needless to say I was dying - when would it end. And then, shortly before the actual finish line, they put a timing pad and then have someone standing there yelling at you not to stop because it's not the finish. And then you finally hit the finish line gasping for air. End of recap. Well, even know what the finish is like didn't make it any less cruel this time around. And this time, the announcer and spectators were trying to get races to sprint finish. If they were anywhere near someone else, they'd be goaded on to try and beat each other. I picked up the pace a little on the final turn, but didn't really have it in me to go much harder. It's one thing to almost throw up somewhere out on the course. It's entirely different to do it right at the finish line. So I let the older guy that I had been tailing go flying past me at about a million miles per hour and gave him the "win". And then I saw the clock turn over from 2:59 to 3:00. Aaggghhh! If only I had known sooner, I would have tried to find something.


swim: 30:19

t1: 1:33

bike: 1:35:31 (18.8 mph)

t2: 1:19

run: 51:49 (8:21 pace)

total: 3:00:34

age: 10/64

female: 72/317

overall: 282/715

*Disclaimer

When I got my schedule, I almost cried. Monday off. Tuesday 25 mile ride, 13.5 mile run. Wed 4 mile run, 3200 meter swim. Thursday 18 mile ride, 7 mile run. Friday off. Saturday race. What?!? Um, I wasn't exactly sure how all of that was going to happen. But somehow it did. Most of it. It works out better for me (and the dogs) if I take Tuesdays off, so I decided to swap Monday and Tuesday. But of course, Monday was the day after the Sprint, so it was the ideal rest day. I decided that it was only a sprint, so I'd be fine. So Monday I rode at lunch and it was actually a really good ride. I felt really solid, and actually started to think that I could get through this week. I was going to run after work but around 3:00 or so, I started getting stomach pains. I think I had bad salad dressing. Anyhow, they were getting worse throughout the afternoon and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball. Running under such conditions really didn't seem like a good idea. It probably wasn't even possible being that I was struggling just to walk. So I set the alarm for 4a Tuesday morning. I woke up and still felt sick. But Tuesday was supposed to be really hot in the afternoon (90s) so the odds of me going after work would be slim. I felt exhausted, and I needed to get this run in, so I decided to take a Wellness Day and called in sick. I slept for another few hours and then headed out for my run around 8:30. It was 75 degrees. It quickly heated up and it was high 80s when I finished. It didn't quite go according to plan. I had to stop a few times and run through some sprinklers as well as stop to walk for a bit. At one point, I figured I'd just stop and then try and get in a few more miles later in the day. But I decided that it would be better to just get it over all at once and so I plodded on. Overall I finished faster than I was expecting, so I was pretty happy with the results. I wasted the rest of the day buying new running shoes, running errands, and other general nothingness. It was a much needed day away from work, even though I did have to put in a few hours from home. Wednesday's 4 mile run went fine. I was surprised how okay my legs felt. Of course, I had been living in compression socks since Sunday's race (and would continue to do so for the rest of the week). The combination of compression socks, my massage stick, arnica, and some cooling metholy creme seemed to help tremendously (and there was an ice bath thrown in there after the long run). I was pretty dead for Wednesday's swim and just tried to hold on, which I can't really say I did. It was a good effort though. Thursday was another long run, but at a very easy pace, which was good considering I went out in the heat of the day at lunchtime. I ran with 2 people from work, which was probably a good thing as I may not have done the whole thing without them. It was getting damn hot out there, but fortunately Boulder Creek was right there and I stopped twice to dunk my hat (which felt SO GOOD!). The run ended up being roughly the same pace as my long run, which was decent considering it was much warmer out and I was way more tired. I also rode to and from work, not quite getting in my 18 miles, but pretty close. I was going to go longer, but figured Thursday night was my important night of sleep and figured it would be better to get home and rest instead. Friday was the long awaited for day off. It would have been great had I not had to work. But I guess I have to to support this lifestyle. Anyhow, I made it through the week and was just hoping for the best on Saturday.

*End Disclaimer