Monday, June 30, 2008

Going Long

On Saturday's schedule was a 2 hour 30 minute bike ride, plus an open water swim. This time we visited Sandy Point State Park, which is a lovely beach on the Chesapeake Bay with a gorgeous view of the Bay Bridge, none of which I can show you because I forgot the camera. Use your imagination. After another talk by another coach, we tried a few mass starts. Except I always wait for everyone else to go. Which sorta DEFEATS the point of the practice.

Then we did some swimming along the shoreline, practicing sighting. One of my DC Tri club peeps, oh, let's call him IRONMAN SIMON, actually pulled me aside in the water to show me what I'm doing wrong. Apparently I am TOO POLITE while swimming. Instead of slicing/driving my hand through the water, I am gently tapping it, like I don't want to hurt its feelings.

The minute I got to work today I put in a call to a swim coach. The same coach who told my other DC Tri club peep, oh, let's call him CASEY, that she was going to SLIT HIS NECK in order to get him to put his head down. My kinda coach!

After the swim, we all jumped on our bikes for the EPIC 40-mile ride, and then? There were five of us. Led by the intrepid Eagle Scout DC Tri club leader, let's call him WILL.

We got to mile oh, let's say ONE, and Will signaled that he was stopping. Then he stopped. BECAUSE THERE WAS A STOP SIGN. And a big ol' truck a'comin'. And I stopped too! Yay me!

As I was going down, I screamed "help" and reached out and grabbed Will, cuz I guess I didn't want to eat pavement alone. Thankfully he stayed upright. My brain was screaming CLIP OUT CLIP OUT CLIP OUT but my body was not responding. I went down. He stayed up. I was fine, just a little scrape on the knee but enough blood and grit to make me look hardcore. As Will said, "Now you can join the ranks of those who are awaiting their next fall," having gotten the first one out of the way.

Onward! Soon there were two. Me, in last place, and Will, about 1,000 miles ahead of me. But Will waited at every turn, of which there were many, to make sure I knew where we were going.

It was a beautiful day. We rode along superhighways, and back country rodes, over bridges, up and down big ass hills, while various songs played in my head. (After passing "Revolution Road," the Beatles and I had a nice time together.) Past the Canine Fitness Center, and the Wine Festival. Past the roadside memorial to some poor soul.

I spent most of my time trying not to envision my own death by bike. I have really got to replace my mental imagery.

At one red light, I pulled up alongside Will to entertain him with some witty bon mot (my bad, stay in line on a giant highway!), and when the light changed the minivan alongside me knocked my left elbow so hard its passenger-side mirror got slammed toward the window. Did the driver stop? Hell no! For all she knew my arm coulda been hanging off that mirror.

Some. People.

At 30 miles we hit downtown Annapolis and rode up to the place where the whole group was going to meet for lunch, but unbeknownst to us, had decided to skip. No matter!

I had been longing for a Coke. I had to have a Coke. If I didn't get a Coke I was going to kill someone. Curiously, I don't even drink Coke. Nor do I ingest it in any of its forms. It's probably been 20 years since I had a Coke! (Let's see how many times I can say Coke.)

Then Will and I got down to business and ordered lunch. He wanted soup. I was like, "Will, it's 120F outside!" Mysteriously, the soup of the day was: Watermelon.

Please, before you leave this earth, ride 30 miles in the blazing hot sun, and then go sit and have yourself a bowl of watermelon soup. It was like sex in a bowl.

Soon enough we were back on the road, with Will encouraging me that "there's only ten miles left." Which after a few hundred more miles? I knew was a lie. We finally made it back to the park, where my poor friend—oh let's call her Sandy—with whom I had carpooled—was sitting and waiting all by herself for me to return. She'd been back for an hour. She waited for ONE HOUR. Which right there deserves some kinda medal.

The rest of the group had gone here for lunch, and had saved seats for us, because that's the kind of peeps I hang with.

I then had the best crabcake sandwich of my life.

(Is this post too hyperbolic? Ya think?)

To recap: open water swim with personal training from an Ironman, a 40-mile ride (in 3:30) with my own personal guide, a snack to die for, and crabcakes and hush puppies afterwards.

Tell me again: When does tri training get hard?


LBTEPA said...

I hate you for having fun training friends (not really)

Rainmaker said...

Hilarious - your Saturday almost stalked mine. We were probably in Annapolis at the same time. I saw bikers, but didn't think that it might actually be people I KNOW!

As for this statement of yours: "forgot the camera" - umm...unsat. You need to add that to the checklist...cause you know the rules - no happen.

Nancy Toby said...

Heck, I would definitely have attended if I knew that sex in a bowl was involved. Guess I really missed out!

Runner Susan said...

Jeanne, you are really trying to pull us over to the dark side aren't you?

Susan said...

Sex in a bowl -- haaaaaaaaa!

Lesser is More said...

Well done! thinks I might have a new recipe (watermelon soup) to try for the 4th!

Vickie said...

Wow, great mileage and great time! I needs to be doin' that!

21stCenturyMom said...

Well done! 40 miles is a first for you, non?

Night before prep includes Camera in bento box. Word. (not that I ever take mine along)

mmmmmmm.......... sex in a bowl.

Triathlon training gets hard when you do a whole lot of it and your body says "STOP!" and you still have to go for a run. But then it's back to sex in a bowl because you are stronger and have more endurance. Plus - you get to have bread with the sex in a bowl because you are burning so many calories. It's awesome!

Jon Wolfsthal said...

hey, i want props for jimmy cantlers!!!

Jade Lady said...

Wow..u hit the 40 mile marker? You're awesome!!!

*jeanne* said...

Wow, you are doing an awesome job!

Black Knight said...

40 miles? Me car from here to Rome!

a.maria said...

nice job jeanne!!!

but a word to the wise... DONT temp the triathlon gods into showing you how/when/why tri-training is hard.

trust me.

you will regret it.

(but mostly its just a ton of fun. which is why i will probably never train for another marathon again!!! why just run when you can swim/bike/run AND have fun!!!?!?)

Anonymous said...

mini vans are tangible evidence of evil.

i had that bumper sticker once. now i knows ees troo

Mike Antonucci said...

Sex in a Bowl would be a good name for a rock band.

Judi said...

Jeanne, Will is so very sweet to wait for you and get you back to the park. Nice job on the ride too. Gotta get those legs acclimated to long miles. You are doing (and looking) great! Keep up the good work.

P.S. I tipped over in a race last weekend, bloodied up my bike too.

peter said...

Yay for BFFs! Hmm, so runners and bikers are antagonists in the scheme of things, with advantage bikers. Now I know bikers and motorists are antangonists, with big advantage for drivers. Glad you weren't hurt. Nice long ride!

Just12Finish said...

Yeah, but the weetle baby duckies made it all worth it.