67 Miles and a Massage

Enough fooling around, it's back to the fitness front (and front is the correct word, because it certainly feels like a war):
Saturday, I ran 4 miles in the a.m. with the HIPsters. This might not sound like much, but I must confess, since the 10k debacle I have been REALLY mad at running. No kidding. I boycotted it for 10 straight days. (Which, for the record? I don't really recommend.)

I gave in to its whimpers on Wednesday, running 3 miles in the rain, and it was back to its usual tricks of letting me know that it would take another 10 weeks to regain what I'd lost in 10 days. Another 3 on the treadmill on Friday morning brought me to a whopping total of 10 miles last week.

Saturday: Pre-Mothers' Day:

Number One Daughter was out of town, cavorting with some astronauts down at Cape Canaveral on Mothers' Day weekend, but sent me a mysterious e-mail with these directions

btw...3:45 pm Saturday you are going to this address:
2471 18th St NW
(between N Adams Mill Rd & N Belmont Rd)
Washington, DC 20009
(202) 320-0250
BUT don't look up the address or anything ahead of time! i just watned [sic: we're authentic here at NBTR headquarters] you to have it in an email!

Fun! I adore surprises! Was it botox? Liposuction? BACHELOR #3?????

Even better! It was a massage, from here. Hot stones, and a masseuse who worked on my shoulders and neck until I thought I would cry. In a good way.

Sunday: Happy Mothers' Day!

Then it was early to bed so I could get ready for an 8 a.m. clip-in, to ride the Eagleman bike course, some 2.5 hours away in beautiful Cambridge, Maryland (land of the Tobymeister). What better way to celebrate Mothers' Day?

There was a 37-mile option, or a 56-mile option. My longest ride to date has been 30 miles...and that was just last week! Of course I chose 56-miles. (I have a blog to write, people!)

Things were good for 30 miles. I hung with the pack, we practiced drafting (this is actually hair-raising) we were talking, laughing, taking in the sights, nature, osprey, butterflies, frogs, turtles, peacocks. Life was good. Except for the wind.





It was windy.

OK, I know people say "It was REALLY windy," and you know, they mean the wind was blowing.

This wasn't like that.

This was the kind of wind that makes you wonder WHY THEY AREN'T EVACUATING people. But don't take my word for it, let's ask Tuan, who can actually, you know, ride:

The ride was a 56 miles single loop ride on as flat roads as you will find. The wind was just relentless. Is it possible for the wind to blow in 4 different directions at once ? There were parts where the headwind was so strong that when I turned to my left, the headwind followed my head to become a left crosswind. I turned to my right and it followed me there too. I turned around to look behind me and you'd guessed it ... son of a gun was waiting for me. It was like getting bitch slapped by four women at once.

Like that.

We all had cue sheets (bike talk for "directions") but there were also bright pink fluorescent markings on the pavement all along the route that said "EM thisaway" or "EM thataway" ("EM"=Eagleman, "thisaway"=arrows pointing the way). At 30 miles the cue sheet said turn RIGHT, and the pink fluorescent marking said LEFT. Some of us went right. For 4.5 miles. Until ONE of us (THANK GOD—and SHANNON!) realized, um, this is the wrong way.

Oh, how innocent and carefree we were pre-mile 30!

And then there were four. I was still OK, amazed that I could even turn the pedals. Still in relatively good spirits.

It's amazing the panoply of emotions one goes through when stuck in a (somewhat) desperate situation. Resignation, denial, acceptance. Bargaining with God. ("Please just stop the wind for a minute and I promise to join a convent!")

And tell me please, WHY I had to have the refrain from this song playing ENDLESSLY in my brain? For four solid hours.

I started wondering whether it was possible for the wind to actually read a map. I mean, maybe when man created roads, he altered the wind currents. It's a theory I entertained while riding along (the appropriately named) Egypt Road for 7 long, endless, slogging miles, where I think I entered another realm. No matter which way the road went, the wind came directly at me. It was ALIVE!

I fell way behind. I couldn't take it! But I had the best bike buddies ever, and they had all waited for me as I made the long Exodus out of Egypt (Rd). We had 10 miles left. I almost wept for joy. My thoughts turned to pancakes. And crabcakes, chocolate milk and ice cream sundaes.

I don't know how but I finally made it back. I peeled myself off the bike, anxious to see which parts of me would remain on the bike. Luckily, everything was intact.

We high-fived. Some crazy people went for a run. We drove to Paneras and I got a PB&J sandwich and chocolate milk off the kids menu, and then suited up for the long long ride home.

It was the best day of my life and I can't wait to do it again.

14 Miles, Sore Calf, & H.I.P.

Saturday's 14 miles was not fun. It wasn't even hard, because hard doesn't come close to describing it. It was gruesome. Have I ever run 14 miles before? Really? You lie.

I've been breaking in some new shoes. Saucony's Triumph 5 (the same kind of car I want!) because the kid at the running store told me they don't make my beloved New Balance 1023s anymore, so to try these, 2-week money-back guarantee if I only wore them on the treadmill. Which I did, for two 5-mile sessions.

So I thought I was good to go.

Although I have noticed my achilles has been sort of sore.

And yeah, my calves have been kind of tight.

But who pays attention to that crap? C'mon. If I paid attention everytime something hurt, I'd never get out of bed! HTFU already.

So off I went in my pretty new Sauc's. Our coach decided at the last minute to send us 7 miles north, into the wilds of Maryland, instead of South, into the civilization of D.C.

We were running along the Rock Creek Hiker-Biker Trail, a part of Rock Creek Park I had never seen before. A beautiful paved trail that runs right through the middle of a woods, alongside a stream. Birds were singing, the skies were blue, there was an ululating symphony of frogs (no really, there was). Temps were in the 60s, and would be 70F before we stopped.

All was right with the world.

So my calf hurt. And I ignored it. What, was I gonna go home without even trying??? Not likely. I started running with two other girls. And we went up hills and down hills. Past woodland creatures and human creatures. It was all good. Until mile 5 when I stopped. Because ouch. It hurt. Like for reals. Like an am-I-gonna-make-it? kinda hurt.

My running buddies were great, stopping with me. I cursed myself for not bringing my customary $10 for a cab...until I realized—no cabs in the woods. I have never (knock wood) not finished a training run. Ever. So I wasn't too eager for today to be my first.

I stopped, stretched, massaged, gritted my teeth, examined my options— a loooooooong 5-mile-walk-or-run back, or run onward 2 miles to the turnaround. Of course, it was ONWARD!

By now my will (which was weak to begin with) was pretty much shot. I was hanging on, helped by healthy doses of stretching, massaging, and lots of moaning. (Always a pleasure to run with me!) I made it to 7 miles and then? I had to run back.

Time to HTFU, again.

It took 3:06. A blistering 13-minute-mile pace.

Take that Miss Fancypants Speed Development!!

My poor running mates. They were such good sports. I can only hope that I'd be as kind confronted with a gimpy running mate.

So here it is Monday.

My calf is still sore, but I'm pretty sure (after much consultation with Dr. Google) that I didn't tear anything. I've been massaging it like mad. But what to do with Tuesday night's speed session (that would be TOMORROW night), Internet People?! Do I go? Or no go? And what to do with Saturday's 14-miler??

And more importantly, what to do about those $@!$ shoes?

Back to the shoe store? Run/no run?

(You really have to wonder how I get dressed by myself in the morning. Well, the answer is: I don't. Number One Daughter consults. Daily. It's frightening.)

I've got the National half coming on March 21. I really really wanted to kick Danielle's ass! Or Ray's. (Hi Danielle & Ray! Just kidding! Ha ha!)

Sigh.

In other news:

1. Call has been made to upstairs landlord about possibly DRAINING THE LAKE that's inside his apartment; and


b) I SIGNED UP FOR D.C. TRI'S HALF-IRONMAN PROGRAM (henceforth known as HIP) WHEEEEEEEEEE!

(Thanks Neal, and the rest of you. You know who you are.)

Although I have no desire, and I will not, under any circumstances, actually enter, or even pretend to enter, or remotely consider entering, a half-ironman.

Ta-da.

14 Miles in the A.M.

We are really ramping up the miles over here at NBTR headquarters, with 14 miles on the schedule tomorrow. I am NOT looking forward to it (really? no kidding?) as last week's 12 miles was horrifying. Luckily I ran with two women who would NOT allow me to stop. Of course I was bleeding to death last week (TMI? Sorry!) so it's possible things will go better, but if I didn't expect the worst, then, well, I dunno what might happen! The world might stop spinning.

Meanwhile, let's drop in on what I've charmingly dubbed:

PROJECT INACTION 2009!

When we last visited, our heroine was avoiding numerous mundane and stultifyingly boring or exciting, but scary, tasks. Let's see how much progress she's made:

Kitchen: None.

Taxes: Um, nada.

Match.com: Wrote to a few people, no reply.

Pick a tri, ANY TRI: Uh, try try again. (heh)

Submit bills to insurance: Nope! Although I did put them in a pile.

Write upstairs landlord about falling-in bathroom ceiling: Did. Nothing.

Start writing short story for contest, deadline of March 16: I did actually open Word. I wrote one sentence tonight, then decided I needed to blog.

Swim coach: Posted query on D.C. Tri forum, contacted one coach. YAY!!! I ACTUALLY DID SOMETHING! WHEEE!!!

Let's add another item to Team Inaction!: All my New (old) Tri Program peeps have signed up for DC Tri's Half-Ironman Training program. It's only $50. I have no desire to do a half-ironman, and I think the training would be too much for me. So what's the problem, you ask? I have no plan, and I think it would be fun training with these people. SO, you ask, WHAT IS THE PROBLEM?

The problem is I seem utterly unable to make any decisions.

Sigh.

In other exciting news, I saw the President today. His motorcade went right by my office. His daughter goes to school just up the street from where I work, and he and Mrs. O. attended a parent-teacher conference. (Seriously, can you imagine? "So, your daughter is having a tough time fitting in. Anything going on at home we should know about?") So they closed the street (not an easy feat), there were about 200 cops, motorcycles, PLUS a helicopter, and everyone came out and watched and waved. It was exciting.