That 5% Push

I’ve got a draft of the Rock ‘n Roll half recap going. And maybe I’ll get to it. But I fell off this because I was sidelined. Sort of. You see, right around the time of my first 6 miler in 10 months, I noticed I was having trouble breathing while running. And walking up stairs and hills. I’ve been to see a doctor and we’ve eliminated some big things, but I’m still less than ideal. However. The Grand Teton Half Marathon in June isn’t going to run itself. I’ve decided I can just get used to this new normal while my doctors and I are working this all out.

I’ve laid out my training between now and June 20th. I’ve decided what I want to add or remove. I’ve chosen the diet I want to adopt. I have set my sights on this race. Because look at this thing.

Seriously. Shut up. That’s what I’m going to be looking at. For 6+ miles. For 4 or 5 days. I’m going to hike this (not to the top, you crazy???). I’m going to stand there with my runner friends from all over these United States and bask in the beauty of this. For this east coast girl, mountains like that are just surreal. And I can’t wait to see them.

Which is how I find myself sitting at my desk wondering how I’m going to get up and go to this next meeting. My legs are 100% Grade A jelly. On Monday I had this great bike workout at the gym and then hit my first ever 1 minute plank! I celebrated that with a run home on Tuesday (it was in the teens and still felt great. If you run in cold weather and don’t have a Buff, get into it. Fast). Last night I ellipticalled my little heart out and power core Wednesday’d – I got in all 36 v-ups!!! (Yeah, v-ups. Who’s your bitch now? Me. I totally am. You are still terrible. Please don’t hurt me.) Today is a rest day and we have yoga at work. But it’s not Bikram. Or power flow. Or anything particularly hard. It’s really just a focus on your body and make some specific movements type of class. Except today. The burn, ohhhh the burn. My quads reminded me of every little thing I did to them this week. And it feels amazeballs.

Despite the exhaustion, and overall inability to move right now, I know my body feels like this because I pushed this week. I didn’t get off the bike 12 minutes early because I was bored. I put on the Golden Globes monologue and distracted myself. I didn’t collapse 15 seconds into my plank. I heard my yoga instructor’s voice in my head to breathe into the tight spaces. I didn’t stop running and get on the bus. I didn’t give up on the last 2 v-ups in each set. At each moment of every work out, I pushed just an extra 5%. And that feels so so so so so good. I’m writing this now so that in 7 weeks when the novelty has worn off and there’s a random warm day when it’s reasonable to sit at a bar with the windows open instead of running, I’ll remember this moment and lace up my shoes. And then run to the bar.

Hearts and foam rollers!

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Summer funtimes scars

Scars. We all have them, both physical and emotional. People have written about them, sung about them, lectured on them. Scars show a map of where our journey has been. There are certainly scars and marks that are traumatic or bring up bad memories. But I love the marks that are all over my body right now. Because they are a testament to the fact that it is nice out and it’s almost summer and I’m having fun.
I’ve got a scratch across my right shin from some sort of thorny twig thing from a run on a new route that turned into a hot mess. Three nails on my right hand were sacrificed to the packing of Krystal’s kitchen. Which made me feel less guilty about cutting my run short. Because boxes of dishes and pans are no joke! I’ve got a huge scratch across my left lower shin from walking into my beach chair on my way to “cross train” by building a sandcastle for a two year old to stomp – yes, technically I yoga’d later for actual cross training. I can’t be lying to get that green square! But it’s fun to pretend for a minute that sand castle building would be enough. I added a new mark last night when I had to sneak off into the woods for a pit stop on the side of Memorial Drive during a 2.3 mile run. Isn’t running just so glamorous? I’ve got mosquito bites on every part of my skin that has been exposed since the snow melted. The itching reminds me that I was out running, eating ice cream, walking around Boston, and running. So many running bug bites. So. Many.

But my favorite marks? My feet. The bottoms of my feet are gross town, USA. I’ve got runner friends losing toe nails left and right. It happened to me before. I expect it to happen again. And though we runners sometimes complain about the distinct awfulness of the look of our feet/lower legs (oh the sock tan lines) there’s always a hint a pride in there too. Because each of those lost toenails or blister or weird skin spot is a record of the miles I’ve put in the books. The mental fight I had to overcome to get through the hard parts. The triumph for finishing a tough workout. So when I look at my feet it just looks like sweet sweet victory.

Anybody else got a good scar or mark from running or summer fun?

Hearts and more marks!

PS Short and sweet this week, but can’t leave out the chart update. Because damn is that thing a good motivator. That and watching my friends’ charts fill up too!

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How many times can I write ‘bra’ in one post???

I’m trying really hard to get used to my routine. I want to get a hella lot of green on that wall. I want most days to include just putting on workout clothes and getting the workout done. I want to be so used to it that it doesn’t even occur to me to try to find an excuse. To do that I reeeeeealy need to stop leaving the packing of my gym bag until the morning. I was oh so close on Thursday. I remembered my watch, a hair tie, a headband, and a breathing strip. I had the right shoes and they matched (not as guarentee as you would think). I had mis-matched socks (I like it that way – don’t ask me why). I had sunglasses and my favorite shirt. I had the pants with the pockets that hold my car key safe while I run. I did NOT have a sports bra. Sigh. I remembered having it in my hand. I was sure of it. Because I did laundry on Tuesday and it was hanging from my light – you think I managed to buy a drying rack since the last post?? I remember having it in my hand with my shirt but I was running late (so what else is knew) and figured I must have dropped it. Thankfully I work across the street from Sports Authority and I could really use a new sports bra. So I put on the rest of my running clothes and hit up Sports Authority with a swing by the clearance section while I was there searching through for what other deals there were. When I first started running 3 years ago I didn’t want to go out and spend money on all sorts of gear. Over time I’ve picked up items here and there but I keep running on the same old clothes. Which is how I am with regular clothes too – much to the entertainment/frustration of my mother. But I’ve been doing this a long time. I think its ok to spend a little money so I’m comfortable and I look good (because I know while I’m running my face is probably contorted into a HORRIBLE look and at least I can be in a cute shirt with my chevron headband – thanks KP! – and some sweet $1 aviators. Duh) I don’t even remember what I was talking about. Oh! Shopping. I got the bra and some Nuun and checked out. When I only have a couple things, I leave the bag behind. It’s a little thing, but I try to conserve where I can. At the bottom of the stairs I saw a sign that Gap outlet had a sale. So I went in, sports bra and 4 tubes of Nuun in hand. I found a couple dresses, jeans, and some shorts. And realized that if I went in and tried them on I could change into my new sports bra – win! I ended up with new jeans, a new dress, and a bra stuffed in my gym shorts pocket. So yeah. I toooootally didn’t look like I was shoplifting.

I got to the park to start my run and right as I pulled my car into a spot, a goose pooped on the grass in front of me. Awesome. I stretched (on what I hope was a poop free zone), fired up the Garmin and hit the pavement. And the first interval didn’t suck. And then the second one was good. And by the third I knew I was ahead of last week because I got across the bridge on my route and still had running to do. Last week I stretched the running to get across the bridge. And then. On interval 5. I had 30 seconds left. And then ran through the first 15 seconds of the walking. My legs were still a little sore from Harvard Stadium climbing. But they didn’t feel heavy like they did the last couple runs. Yay drinking enough water! Then I was momentarily waylaid but some fuzzy goslings and there hissing parents.

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if only it could have been Ryan Gosling

Coming up to the second bridge, the clouds had cleared an eensy bit and I was getting late evening light on the Charles. The way the path is set, to cross the road, you run under the bridge and then come out around the other side and up onto the bridge and I was feeling good. Last week climbing up the little hill to the bridge was tough. Thursday I felt like a rock star. Getting up the bridge was getting tough but I looked over and the tops of the Hancock and Pru were peaking out and ‘Dog Days are Over’ was blasting in my ears. And it was perfect. I went flying down the other side of the bridge and kicked it up for the last tenth of a mile. Coming to a stop, I felt fantastic. And then I spotted the 5k that some friends were doing so I headed over to try and spot them. No dice. Instead I clapped for the runners I saw then went and did my cool down stretches. In the only patch of grass with no visible goose poop. Then driving home I was stopped by a flat bed tow truck blocking two lanes of traffic. Which was a nice bookend to the day because I started my Thursday helping one other guy push the van of a third guy out of traffic. That’s right. ONE dude and I. Pushed a van! A van!! Full of construction equipment. Ok, so yeah, the driver hit the gas on reverse and that helped some. But that thing was definitely not backing up on its own. Bam!! All the might!

I’m doing this post chronologically wonky. Because the beginning worked with the lack of decent gym bag packing. But you may have noticed I mentioned the Harvard Stadium. I ran the seats on Tuesday. Well. Ran is absolutely the wrong word. More like I hauled my ass up the steps using every method possible. Those bad boys are high and steep!

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At one point I came awful close to rolling my body over onto the last seat. I’ve become intrigued with the November Project (a huge group gets together every Wednesday morning at 6:30 to climb the seats) but I’m not ready to show up yet. I wanted to try this out a few times on my own first. It was actually pretty good. Its definitely a work out. I feel like it will work out well as a good cross train for running. And everyone else that was there was sort of just going at their own pace, too. Then I did my power core work out and realized just how much of my core I used to climb those seats. But it felt pretty bad ass to whip out some russian twists to wrap up the night. But. I did not really pay attention to the weather. And didn’t know winter was coming back. So was not appropriately dressed and ended up with my long sleeve work shirt over my gym clothes. Whatever. I got it done. There are 37 sections in the stadium and my training had me doing 20 minutes of XT so I decided to do 10. 2 days later and my legs were only a little sore. I’m sure if I did more, they would have hurt more. But I was sure I would be dead. My body felt like it had had such a great workout. I’m sort of happy that I was able to estimate a good workout for my body. It didn’t derail the rest of my training this week, but I got the workout in. Looks like I have to up the number of sections next time though.

I followed this up with another fantastic run on Saturday morning. The weather was so so so so so nice. Perfect temp, clear skies, moderate pollen (ok. All the pollen. And I sneezed the rest of the day, but whatevs). And I knocked 31 seconds off my 2 mile time! Then I went and had my first massage (thanks KP’s Mom!). Why did I wait so many years to have a massage? They are amazing. AMAZING.

Sunday I went to a Sox game with my mom. It was about a bazillion degrees in the bleachers. But it was a fun game! However I had planned my morning poorly and didn’t cross train before the game. Coming home I stopped off to view an apartment (ugh, this process is a pain in the face) and then hit up Trader Joes for some stuff to make dinner. I was still a mile from home and though normally I’d just walk, I grabbed the bus a a week’s worth of yogurt is heavy, y’all. And the train for another 3 blocks (I was hot and tired and I still didn’t use my car so whatever). I just wanted to make dinner and be done with the day. Couldn’t I just pretend that walking all over the city was cross training? Instead I did yoga and then my strength work out. And then made dinner. And then went to bed at midnight and fell asleep at 1:30.

Monday was a new running interval and I was nervous. Towards the end of the day I wasn’t looking forward to the run. At all. So I turned to my running group for some cheering and “go get ’ems” and instead they said “bitch please, just go run, no excuses” which is why I love them and I love our little (expanding!) family. The run was going ok. It was hard, but parts were good. And then at 12:14 I fell off the edge of the path, rolling my ankle. The path is a maximum of 2 in. above the grass. Maximum. How does that even happen?! Oh, yeah. Be the clutziest person in the vicinity. At least it was pretty.

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Hearts and another week of green

 

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My first red mark and approximately 17 others things that are more like 6 but I have runner’s brain and can’t math

I bailed on a race on Sunday. Thoroughly and completely. My 2 mile runs for the last two weeks have been abysmal and because running is such a mental game, I was afraid I would take too long to get over finishing in the bottom 10 people again and my training would get off to a lackluster start. Sunday’s race was 5 miles. 5k I would have slogged through. But 5 miles was too much. Going through the week, I was trying to psych myself up for it. I was racing with a lot of friends and I didn’t want to be a quitter in front of all of them. Last Thursday I tried to run 3 miles. I ran 1.6. I was at the gym with Jennie who is healing from injury (like a boss, I might add) and was biking. I walked over to where she was. She took one look at my face and asked “shit show?”. And I said “The shittiest of shit shows.” So she told me to get my butt on the bike and sweat it out. Pulling out my best insolent teenager act, I sat and pouted through 30 minutes. The next day Jennie emailed and basically told me that no one would judge if I didn’t run. And if it ruined my mental game that would be bad. I was still on the fence and finally decided Sunday morning I wouldn’t run, I would spectate. Still I left the house very slowly and didn’t get over there until the race was over. I was pretty upset over the whole day – wishing I was one of the runners – and very nearly regretted going. But once I found my people and just hung out, it was worth the trip over. I was upset enough that I really didn’t take pictures. Promise it happened.

That red mark is going to sit there until early November, staring at me. Reminding me that when I say I’m going to train I should just suck it up and for the love of Christmas just get out there. Based on all this, I made a decision to step back a couple weeks in my training. I swore I wouldn’t move around workouts, but I think it’s totally fine to move back in the program. Because if I’m about to survive 5 months of training it has to be fun (at least sometimes – occasional bad runs are inevitable). Last year after my back stopped hurting and I started up training again I started too far into the training and it wasn’t fun. Every run. For almost three months. I’ve got the time in my schedule. Really I cut into the 5 week gap I had in the middle and put two more weeks at a shorter interval at the front. I think I did the right thing. I think I’ll enjoy these runs and they’ll give me the training kick in the butt I need to make LA the funnest fun it can be.

There’s the week. And the damn red mark. But look at all the green!

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I had my first park-at-Herter-Park-and-run-along-the-Charles runs of the season. Really I should just keep running through the winter but I was in such an epic funk this winter that I didn’t. I will say this. I forgot how freakin’ high those bridges climb! And how tiny they look on RunKeeper after. I promise you they feel eternally uphill huge. Despite that, it was still nice to be back out there. Cool down stretches, however, were a challenge. The Canadian geese are migrating back north and are pooping near every. single. waterway. Trunk blanket to he rescue! Can we talk about how magical it is that my trunk supplies are now a blanket, sweatshirt, and beach chair instead of a shovel, snow brush, and bigger snow brush? All the magical.

Side note on this amazing weather. I talk a lot about hating the cold, but Boston this weekend? I can’t even begin to describe how unicorn rainbow sprinkles on top fabulous it was. Saturday I went to meet some family visiting from Michigan and walking down the Comm. Ave median park under trees with bright green new leaves and fading flower buds under an almost painfully blue sky was something I’ll look back at next January. Theoretically. I’ll probably still swear a lot. My love for the John Hancock Tower knows no bounds. And so I take a lot of pictures of it. But look. Look at that blue sky!!

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Ok. Back to running. Last week I was mad. I left my Garmin charging all day but when I went to use it the next day, the battery was dead. I brought it to work to charge Monday and after having it plugged in for an hour I checked – still “low battery” I had noticed some black on the back of it but I had figured it was dirt. Turns out if you write on your arm and then put your watch on and then sweat/have 1500 cups of water spilled on you (ooh. I still owe a how-to-work-a-marathon-water-stop-in-a-million-easy-steps post) the marker smudges and effs up the contacts on the watch. Luckily for me, I work with science! and we have alcohol wipes left, right, and center. A quick clean up and problem solved.

After my pretty good run I had allllll the energy and did some laundry, finally washing all my running clothes at once instead of sneaking them in loads here and there. I know that can be bad for the fabrics but I HATE laundry and thinking anything about it was too much. I’m trying to take better care of my things and not just shove all these tech fabrics into the dryer. Problem: I don’t have a drying rack. Solution? Make one. Any tool can be the right tool (that’s a throw back to my childhood watching the Red Green Show with step dad John). Right now my clothes are drying on a) my reconditioned steamer trunk (thanks John!) b) the bendable arm of my standing light c) the thumb switch of said light d) my towel and bathrobe hooks e) the top of my empty (thanks to runner’s energy cleaning) trashcan f) a rolled up and stood on its end yoga mat g) my pop-up tail gating tent (packed up into its bag thingy) and the pièce de résistance h) a ski pole. I was like Oprah and my clothes were free cars.

Methinks it’s time for a trip to the Tar-jay.

Just 12 hours later; le sigh. I have committed to not packing a gym bag in the morning because I always end up at the gym at work with no post workout non sweaty underwear or un-moused hair or no work shoes. Despite being sleepy and wanting my bed real real bad Monday night, I packed a bag. Tuesday morning I kicked my workout’s ass. I mean, after I was done with it, it wasn’t even recognizable to its mother. And after a good run on Monday I was riding a sweet sweet high. A high that came crashing down when I discovered I had no shampoo or soap. So I turned on the shower and then holding my towel with one hand, I fill the other with the foamy hand soap from the sinks (glamorous!) and then getting in the shower, held that hand above me while I rinsed off and then soaped up. There was no WAY I was putting that in my curls, so my hair just got wet and then went to work dirty. I’ve been doing this workout before work thing almost a whole year. I have a toiletry bag I keep in my gym bag. And even before that, I did this occasionally. So WTH?? In my defence, I changed bags for the summer and forgot to move it. Still. Total and complete #epicfail . This also explains the extra shot coffee that made it’s way to Instagram this week. Because sometimes – lots of coffee.

Hearts and I don’t know, random stuff

Nothing better than a boring Monday.

It’s been just about a week since my last post. And what a week it’s been. I’ll admit. I debated all night Monday on whether or not I would post that last entry. In the end I’m glad I did. I share everything else with the internet. And the response was overwhelmingly positive. I read a lot of other bloggers’ accounts of the day and they were all pretty uniform. A lot of confusion, time spent finding out if friends and family were ok, outrage, sadness, and resilience. The world wide outpouring of love for the city that I hold so near and dear to my heart has been so awesome, too.

Best of all it’s Monday and when I woke up this morning the only thought I had was “which of my new clothes am I going to wear today”. This thought was followed pretty quickly by “I hope more patients are released today and others are downgraded from critical condition”. After this was realizing I was running late and would have to bust my butt to try to get to work remotely on time. And that’s normal. Normal. What a nice feeling. Thanks to all those who worked tirelessly to shut down the threat last week. Flags are still at half staff. And people are still fighting for their lives or learning to adapt to a new way of life. Last night driving home the signs on the highway said “We are one Boston. Thank you to all”. The MBTA buses I drove by flashing their route numbers. And then flashing “Boston Strong”. I don’t think we’ll ever be able to say this is “over”. But the threat is gone. And Boston is bigger, brighter, and better.

Even with the mess that was last week I got in a couple of runs and some cross training. Tuesday I wore BAA blue and yellow, but on a Red Sox cap, blasted my Boston songs, and ran along the Charles. Wednesday was the “Wednesday Night Run Club” (It’s so hard to come up with creative names!). I’ve started running with a couple friends (we’re trying to make it once a week) so this was us going out. Thursday was an hour of hard swimming. Hard because I wanted to push myself a little. Last week, a 9 year old girl was repeatedly beating me across the pool. Not cool. Friday was “rest”. Saturday was should have been a run but I had a better window on Sunday so I switched to cross training. And if drinking beer and singing “Sweet Caroline” at the top of my lungs at Fenway counts I totally go it done…

Yesterday was my birthday. I had a bridal shower in the middle of the day and dinner with my family. But there was this nice window in between that was perfect for a run. In the past I might have said “It’s my birthday, I’m taking an extra day off.” and gone to buy coffee and a donut. Instead I changed in a fast food restaurant bathroom (didn’t buy anything. I’m a bad person. Whatever. That food is just so bad) and I hit up the Haverhill Stadium. In reality I ran Riverside Park, but the whole of the city refers to that entire area as the Stadium. My parents and grandparents took my brother and I there approximately 1000 times in my childhood, I sat at a couple hundred of my brother’s little league games there, we used to ride our bikes, or Grammy and Grampy would bring a picnic lunch and watch the boats go up and down the river. Not surprisingly, the place was pretty much the same. It looked a little smaller. And they have a new jungle gym. But there were still tiny baseball players and kids with training wheels. After the chaos of last week worrying about friends and being barred from coming to work it was nice to be out among families in the shining sun. The run was less than stellar thanks to birthday pancakes and bridal shower cake. But it got done. Then there was homemade spaghetti and meatballs (a team effort between my mom and my aunt and uncle).

And cake. Birthdays always have cake.

Here’s hoping the dot of spaghetti sauce I just got on my new sweater will be the toughest crisis this week.

Hearts and normalcy!

Crying doesn’t count if it’s under water, right?

Pro tip. When swimming sing songs that sometimes elicit an emotional response. It’s super fun to tear up under water.

Some swims I count laps. Some swim I just swim for a set time. Last night I was going to just swim for 60 minutes. I love music. I listen to it all day. It helps block out random noise at work to help me concentrate. In the car it passes the time. At home it’s noise so my apartment isn’t so creepy. (side note: living in an apartment by yourself in the winter is the worst. It’s dark all the time and the cold air makes sounds so much louder and creepier. Reason #1427 why I’m glad spring is here…mostly. @#$% 37 degrees this morning). When I’m running I sometimes go out without headphones. I still end up singing to myself. In the pool obviously I have no music. But for whatever reason I have a ridiculous amount of trouble trying to remember how my favorite songs start. I’ve listened to “I’m going to miss her” by Brad Paisley at least 1000 times in my life. Get myself going in a workout and I can’t remember the first line for anything. To combat this I listened to all my favorites on the drive home from work. I got in the pool and still had trouble. Finally I got going on “The Good Stuff” by Kenny Chesney. I listened to it at least 3 times yesterday with no response. I start singing it to myself in the pool and WHAM. Teared up. WTH brain?!?! I’m just trying to get my swim on and enjoy singing one of my favorite songs to pass the time. We’re just trying to have a mind clearing workout. Not cool, brain, not cool. ::side eye hormones::

I really like swimming for cross training. The low impact things is nice and I feel like my muscles get to sort of stretch out. And I’m finally swimming enough that my core isn’t screaming in pain for two days after. Now we just have to get my shoulders on board with that too!

Rest day tonight. Which is code for I’m doing laundry, dishes, and sitting on my couch watching a How I Met Your Mother marathon. By choice, Mom 😉 Gotta get caught up before we find out who the mother is!

EDIT
Hearts and emotional responses to songs

@#$% copy paste fail

The wall. And my first bike ride in 10+ years.

This week’s motivation: “The minute you think of giving up, think of the reason you held on so long.”
That mental wall is kicking my metaphorical ass. These days I hit one mile and my mind just says “good enough. Walk now!” I know it’s hard to break through that wall, but I did it once before. I’m just bummed that it feels so much harder this time.
A sinus migraine sidelined me for most of the day on Saturday so my run in the evening felt just awful and was cut in half, from 4 to 2 miles. Mile 1 was good. Mile 2 was mediocre. I stopped and sat to catch my breath/stop the world spinning around my head/drink water and when I did a woman who is about my age and probably 70-80 pounds heavier than I am went by. And my “I’m only slow because I still have to lose weight” reasoning went flying out the window. She wasn’t going too fast, but she was going. And it hit me. I’m slow because I keep punking out during training runs. And for a minute I thought “Liz, get off your butt and run that second loop.” Then I thought about how much getting sick in the woods had sounded like a good idea to make me feel better during the first loop that I thought I better just head home. On the way home, I stopped at a gas station to put air in my bike tires. This is a bike my Mom and Dad got together to buy me in 1999. When I was 13. I rode it some back then but it hurt my butt and then I started high school and wasn’t visiting neighborhood friends anymore. After college I brought it to DC with me. And then home to MA. And it’s followed me everywhere in MA. But I hadn’t ridden it again. I decided to drag it out of the basement, along with my “youth” helmet. A purple helmet with pink peace signs all over it goes well with the whole “look at me, I’m an adult” thing. Fo’ sho’. But I had this crazy idea to ride it to the Farmer’s market as my Sunday cross training. This turned out to be both a genius and painful decision. On the genius side, I rode to the bike shop to buy a new lock and have them cut off the old lock. My Dad likes to buy the biggest and best. Even if it’s 10 times stronger/bigger than anything you need. So I had a half-inch thick steel cable lock wrapped around the center of the bike that had a key that I think I threw away during one of my 87 moves since going off to college in 2004. The guy at the shop looked at it and said it might take some effort but he was pretty sure he could get it off. 10 seconds later it was done. I think he underestimated the power of an industrial size bolt cutter. I also picked up some Nuun tablets because SararOUaL keeps talking about them and I wanted to try (I want to be a cool kid!). Amazing. I’m a total convert. One tablet changes 16 oz. of water to a sugar free, low calorie (<8!), electrolyte replenishing drink. With a bit of a fizzy finish. After drinking half my Nalgene down, I rode to the Farmer’s market. And here’s where the painful comes in. That bike seat soreness in my backside that I remembered so not fondly came back. With a vengeance. After I picked up some bread, salad greens, and fresh eggs I rode home. And every bump or crack or pebble in the rode was something to be feared and hated. I’m sitting very gingerly today.

But back on the genius side, I ran errands by bike. That’s something I never thought I’d do. I’ll probably do this again in a couple of weeks. And maybe consider buying a more comfortable bike seat. Or a way to make mine better. Without being stared at.
The week’s training:
M: Stretch/rest. Good because I have to go to the dentist. On a Monday. With a sore bum. (not that’s it related. But seriously, it hurts. And sometimes I want to whiiiine)
T: 3 miles in the am. We have summer hours now, so lunch is 30 minutes. And I’m going to see “Salmon Fishing in the Yemen” after work. I hate morning. This should be hilarious. Not.
W: 2 miles. Trying to not kill my legs as I get used to running TWR
R: 3 miles. And then Chic-fil-A. Because I can.
F: Rest. Yay.
S: 4 miles. I like to torture Saturdays.
S: Cross training. Sans bike. Perhaps a hike. Or a swim. But I would need a pool or lake for that. Maybe that’s what I’ll do this weekend. Find a public pool/lake.