Walden Pond (of sorts)

Nope, we didn’t build the house with our own hands.  Our closest neighbor is mere inches away.

But Goddess and I have made our retreat.

We’ve been in our home for a month now.  We finally received the last of our household goods a couple of weeks ago.  Most of the boxes are gone, although there’s still unpacking to do.  One musn’t rush these things, you know.  One of our most interesting dilemmas is that we’re going from a family of three (plus dog) to a family of two (plus dog), so we really don’t need anywhere near as much stuff as we do.  So we’re whittling stuff down a bit. 

Perhaps the most enjoyable part has been we’ve done a fine job of disconnecting from the world.  Don’t get me wrong.  We’re socializing quite a bit and getting out and doing all sorts of things in this beautiful country.  But we’re disconnected.

We don’t have TV, phone or internet in the house. 

It’s quite nice.

Really.

I did finally connect the DVD player to the TV the other night and we watched part of a movie, but that’s been it. 

I catch a bit of news on the computer here at work, do a quick check of e-mails and some very light browsing at moments like this when I need a break from work, but other than that, we are, for all intents and purposes, disconnected.

Now it won’t last forever.  We know that.  Daylight is rapidly shrinking towards those winter days where we have only eight hours of daylight, which just happens to coincide with the hours that I’m at work.  And it will be cold enough that we can’t sit out on the back porch for hours after sunset.  So we’ll slowly reconnect.

But one musn’t rush these things, you know.

Craziness

Pure craziness.

That’s how this week has been.

After last Saturday night’s 20-mile RUTS, we headed back to the room.  The next day we were planning on running a local 5K; seriously, who can pass up a 5K put on by the local brew house?  Well, we did.  Too much going on.  A quick visit and farewell with some friends, then back to the room to finish packing.

Monday was quite hectic, with picking up the rental beast (Suburban), loading it up, then heading to work to finalize some things.  Then the drive towards Atlanta.  We had no plans on making it all the way to Atlanta, but as we got to where we planned on spending the night, we realized that we had just about an hour more of light traffic ahead of us, instead of 90+ minutes of morning traffic headed in to the city.  

Tuesday was the big day.  Thanks to some poor timing with turning the rental beast in at the airport, we had eight hours to spend in the airport before takeoff.  But we had a good time, sitting back and watching everyone walk by and gaze into Skinny’s travel kennel.  He made lots of friends.  One the airline counter opened a few hours before takeoff, we made sure Skinny was fed, walked and evacuated before we checked in.  It was nerve-wracking turning him over to the airline, but he seemed to be taking it in stride.

The flight on Lufthansa was fairly nice.  It was a bit interesting, being only two days after the loss of the Air France flight, there were some nervous folks.  Especially when we hit some turbulence over New York.  But none were worse for wear. 

We got to Frankfurt, anxious to see how Skinny did.  He came out on the conveyer belt and didn’t look any different than he did any other day.  After about 12 hours in the box, he was happy to get out and walk around, which was the only way we were going to get him out of the baggage check area.  There’s just no way that Goddess and I could pick up the crate with him in it.

The rest of Wednesday we fought to stay awake as long as we could.  That happened to be 8pm, which is about 90 minutes before sunset here.  We were good with that, but not good with being wide awake at midnight.  Luckily the convenience store was open, so we could go pick up some local beer and relax in the room until we fell back asleep at 3am.

The next few days have been taking care of some work stuff, getting to meet folks, fighting jet lag and just adjusting.  It sure is a beautiful country.

Goddess is truly a goddess.  Just a few days before we left the states, I was asked if we wanted to attend a formal ball on Saturday, just three days after we arrived.  Of course, the invitation came just a few days after her gowns and shoes were packed.  Being the trooper that she is, she agreed.  So she was scooped up by a couple of the spouses here on Friday and spent the day shopping for a dress and shoes.  Luckily she has that option here, unlike Japan where all of the women were a size –5.  They did a fine, fine job and she looked absolutely gorgeous (much like she does every day).

Sorry, no pictures.  You’ll just have to take my word for it.

This coming week will be good.  We’ll finally get to look for a house (some bureaucratic red tape got in the way this week), get our licenses (more red tape) and decide where to live.  There are plenty of beautiful villages around to pick from.

Wish us luck.

Ice

We really dodged the bullet with the ice last week.  We got about 1/2-inch, then it warmed up just enough that while the next three inches of rain fell, we sat at 0.3C, which was too warm for any additional ice but cold enough that the ice that had fallen didn’t melt off.  We lost a fair bit of trees in the area, but nowhere near as bad as folks just 10-20 miles to our west and north.

But there was beauty to be found wherever you looked:

Speaking of ice, we went to Nashville Saturday night to see AC/DC, who are in the midst of their “Black Ice” tour.  It was a hell of a show, easily one of the best I’ve ever attended (and I’ve been to quite a few).  I had never had a chance to catch one of their concerts and was quick to snatch up tickets while I was in Iraq.  We were lucky to, since the show sold out quickly.

While it was pretty funny to see 53-year-old Angus Young still strutting around in his trademark school boy uniform, it was pretty clear from the onset that they were still a bunch of guys who love doing what they do.  I can only imagine that recording and touring for 35 years would really get to be a grind, but that wasn’t evident in the guys.  Angus and singer Brian Johnson were all over the stage the entire time, soaked with sweat from their efforts.

And what was really impressive was the wide range of ages at the show, from the young teenagers to the grandmothers who dressed as if they were teenagers (really, did you really think that you looked hot when you looked in the mirror?).  But there was no doubt that, regardless of age, they were all fans.  And with ticket prices starting at $90 per seat (and going astronomical from there), I guess you’d better be.  If you get a chance to see them, I’d recommend it.  Click on the pic above to go to The Tennesseean’s review of the concert, including the set list.

Finally, training is going swimmingly.   Except there isn’t any swimming.  Just running.  Hell, even if I wanted to swim, I couldn’t, since the local brain trust decided to wait until late fall to start an overhaul of the only local indoor pool, instead of doing it over the summer when all of the outdoor pools were open.

Anyway, I’m ramping up the mileage, slowly and steadily.  The ice storm threw a wrench in the works early on, so I had to reshuffle to load up my weekend, including pulling a couple of two-a-days.  All went well.  I’m pushing right up on 50-miles a week, which isn’t a huge, huge amount, but is the tipping point of having to consistently do two-a-day’s in order to increase and maintain the mileage.  Otherwise, I’m looking at starting to take a significant amount of time away from family every evening.  That’s not something I’m willing to do.  It was easy to do in Iraq, but it’s not a sacrifice I’m willing to make here at home.

So I’m at just under 40 days until the 60K and a few 60-mile weeks are scheduled.  The beauty of having done my 40-miler last September is that I’m really not concerned about the distance.  Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got a healthy respect for it, but there certainly isn’t the pit-of-the-stomach feeling that I had a month out from that run, or a month out from my IM-distance race.  Perhaps that moment will come, but I am confident that each run is building towards a successful run.

And every run lately has been a huge boost in confidence for several reasons.  The biggest is that I am consistently negative-splitting my runs, whether they be 5 miles or 15 miles.  And not at pedestrian paces either.  I’m beginning to wonder if it’s the switch in my training plan.  Since I started using Training Peaks in mid-2003 to track my workouts and build training schedules, I’ve been on a 4-week cycle, with every fourth week as recovery.  Once I turned 40, TP switched to a 3-week cycle, with every third week as recovery.  Although I’m only a few cycles into it, I am definitely seeing the benefits of more frequent recovery weeks.  Gotta love the recovery!

Speaking of recovery, that’s what this week is all about.  And I’m already relaxed.

‘Tis the Season…

…for Bill to say “Bah Humbug”.

Yep, that’s right.

I don’t get the “holiday spirit”, at least the “spirit” that is perpetrated by the masses. I just don’t get it. For many reasons, most of which are better discussed over a beer.

As someone without faith, which takes a lot of faith in and of itself, I shake my head at the rampant commercialism of what should be a season of reflection , service and togetherness. Instead, it’s become more about someone crying on the local news that times are so hard that their six year old is going to suffer because they won’t get the laptop that they deserve. Or trampling a guy trying to make $5.50 an hour just so they could get to the half-price DVDs.

Anyway, my frustration with the season does cause a bit of disparity in the house. Goddess is very in touch with her faith, which I admire and support. And Goddess, with her long background of singing in choir, etc., really enjoys the music of the season. Me? Not so much.

But there are two songs of the season that I look forward to hearing. The first:

This one is all about textures and rhythm for me. Absolutely mesmerizing. Although I can do without the Garmin commercial every 20 minutes.

And the second has always been amazing to me. Bing really had a voice.

Those are the two. That’s really it, although I will watch Bing sing with David Bowie. Again, Bing’s got an amazing voice for these songs.

But one Christmas special has been announced that’s really got me excited:

Click the pic for details.

I. Cannot. Wait.

But until then, Goddess, Son and I will just have to enjoy the concert tomorrow night, headlined by Disturbed, with Taproot, Hollywood Undead and Egypt Central.

We are all looking forward to it.

So in case I don’t get around to it in the following weeks, I do wish each and every one of you a relaxing and safe holiday season, surrounded by those that mean the most to you.

Because isn’t that what it’s all about?

Sapper Half Marathon

Two weekends in a row of racing.  Three races in 4 weeks, with the first being my 40-miler, last week being a 10-miler and then this half-marathon.  Yeah, I’m abusing myself a bit, but what the hell?  It’s all part of the plan.

Since last Sunday’s 10-miler PR, I have run absolutely zero (0) feet.  Not even a shuffle.  Monday was my normally scheduled rest day; the rest of the week was either getting ready to travel or actually traveling.  And there wasn’t any time available to run during that time, although I had my shoes ready in case an opportunity presented itself.  It just didn’t.  Matter of fact, I wasn’t even sure I’d make it back in time to run the half.  But we got back early Saturday morning, which gave me a whole 3 hours sleep before heading back to work a full day.  Luckily I did get a full-night’s sleep before the run, but I definitely wasn’t loose and ready for it.

My goal was a PR.  When I toed the line, I knew that I should be happy with a well-paced run, which I would have been.  Based on last weekend’s 10-miler, I was looking to run 8:00/mile splits, which would get me under 1:45, a new PR by over three minutes.  Not unreasonable to expect, but not likely considering my lack of running during the preceding days.  But that’s a minor point.  The run would be what it was.

As I’ve finally figured out this year, consistent pacing and negative splits are the way to go.  So starting out a bit slow in the opening miles would help me to warm up as well as save my energy for later.  So I watched a good chunk of the field pass me in the opening miles, knowing I’d see many of them again.

Looking at the graph below, each half mile pace is represented by the bars and the scale on the left side.  The line shows my average pace, with the scale on the right.  The spike at 1.5 miles was an unplanned porta-potty stop.  Unplanned but necessary.  The spikes later on (6.5, 10, 12) were me walking through the water stops.  I walked through every one, but those reflected the most in my pace.

The pace the first miles were too slow and easy, which I recognized at about the half-way point.  Instead of being close to an 8:10-ish pace which would poise me well to negative split, I was sitting at about 8:20, which mean that I had a pretty huge deficit to make up if I planned on pulling off a negative split.  But I also knew that if I kept a quicker pace, I’d whittle away at that overall pace and likely still PR, so that was my goal.

The best part of the run was that it covered most of the ground that I ran all summer, except this time it was during daylight.  I actually got to see my surroundings!  It was a scenic run as we worked our way from Camp Liberty to Camp Victory, out to Camp Slayer and then back.  Although I’m sure that means nothing to most of you, as far as coalition locations go in Iraq, these are the jewels.  Several ornate palaces and mosques surrounded by large lakes and palm trees made for a nice run.

Although I was going slower than I had hoped, I was still moving well.  Save for a handful of folks in the very first miles, I didn’t start my “passing campaign” until mile 4.  It was after that point that I started passing runners quite readily.  During the remainder of the race, I was only passed by one runner who managed to stay in front of me until the end; anyone else who passed me was reeled in and passed for good.  I even got stink eye from the 4th Infantry Division’s Commanding General at about mile 11 as I passed him and his group very comfortably.  Apparently he wasn’t too keen on getting buried by an Air Force guy.  I was tempted to give him a “good game” as I went by, but I like the rank that I’m at right now.

At mile 10, I was only three minutes off my pace for last week’s 10-miler.  Sitting at 1:21, I did the math in my head and knew that I’d have to knock out 3.1 miles at faster than 8:00/mi pace.  Taking stock of my legs, I figured I’d give it a try.  So I accelerated, but apparently a mile of that was all I had at that point, since I slowed to 8:10-8:15/mi pace after mile 11.

By mile 12 I had an odd experience, my shoulder started cramping up.  Wouldn’t you know it, I’m working it out as I run, I go around the corner and there’s the photographer, snapping away as I’m all contorted.  Oh well.  On the chart you can see where the combination of a water stop and my massaging slowed down my pace.

The last mile I accelerated comfortably, working to get it as close to 1:45 as I could.  I didn’t bother looking at my Garmin, instead just going by feel.  It didn’t feel great, but it wasn’t supposed to.  Looking at my heart rate data, the last mile I pushed deep into Zone 5; I knew it at the time simply based on my breathing.  I didn’t need the Garmin to tell me what I was feeling.

After I crossed the line, grabbed my finisher’s shirt and schwag bag, I headed out to the course.  Luckily the last mile was a horseshoe-shape, so I didn’t have far to go to cheer on folks who had about 300 meters to the line.  That was a great experience, seeing so many folks that worked all summer to build up to this half marathon.  A full cross-section of runner passed by on the way to their finish – tall, short, slight, big.  We even had our requisite bloody-nipple guy.

But the best part for me was seeing all of the folks that I worked and ran with this summer.  Just 4-5 months ago, none would have ever considered running a half-marathon.  Only one of them had ever run 10 miles and he swore that was his limit.  But to see each of them surge to the finish line of a half-marathon was great.  Some have goals to run a marathon next year, some may never run a half-marathon again.  But at least for this period in their lives, they now know what it is to be a runner – one who sets a goal, trains for it and conquers it.  They are hooked.

It makes me smile.  And that’s my PR.  One that will never be broken.

40!

Well, it’s a few more days until I hit that milestone.  Honestly, just another day in my book.  But today, as part of the B-Fit Birthday Challenge, as well as giving me something to focus on for training while here in Iraq, I ran 40 miles (well, 41.5) in celebration of my fitness.  But before I get to the report:

Thank you all so much for your generosity!  So far you’ve managed to donate almost $700 to the Fisher House, which is incredible.  Absolutely incredible.  I’ve had donations from family, friends, the blogging community, as well as complete strangers who heard what I was doing through word of mouth (or e-mail).  Your generosity is astounding.  THANK YOU!

Anyway, on to the run.

I started off at 11:50pm, about 5 minutes behind schedule.  Nice and cool, a slight breeze, the waning moon climbing in the eastern sky.  The first 27 miles, which I ran solo, went by very quickly.  Very comfortable too.  The temperature at midnight was 88F (31C) and it cooled down to 77F (25C) before sunrise.  Now, keep in mind that temperature range is very cool for me; you might recall that all of my long runs this summer started with temps around 106F (41C) and would often never cool below 100F (38C) the entire time.  So this was a welcome change.  Matter of fact, there were points on the run that I actually felt chilled!

I started off at a very comfortable 11:00/mile pace, which was my average pace goal for the entire run.  The next few miles were actually quicker, dropping down into the 10:40s.  I maintained a steady pace, using the 4-minute run/1-minute walk strategy that has served me well.  By mile 13, my average pace dropped below 10:30/mile, which was quite a bit quicker than I had planned.  But I was feeling good and my heart rate stayed right where I needed it to be, so I kept at it.  By mile 26 I was down to a 10:24/mile average pace and actually hit 26.2 miles (full marathon) just 4 minutes off of my PR for that distance!  I was feeling strong.

The overall pace dropped slightly over the next 10 miles, then the wheels came off right after mile 36.  Even then I was able to hold a decent forward motion and I knew I was going to finish.  Here’s the accumulated pace (bars) overlaid with my actual pace for that mile (line):

Note that refueling are off the clock.  Although not reality for an organized run, had I left the clock running while I was doing those things, I’ve found that it really messing with my overall pace and gives me an unrealistic picture of my effort.  In a supported race, I’d have someone handing me my fuel.

Anyway, the last 10 miles were a 15K race that happened to be scheduled for this morning.  It worked out perfect, since all of the folks that planned on supporting me during the last 10 miles also planned on doing that run.  When I first started planning this run, all I asked was for support during that last 10 miles, knowing that’s when I’d need it most.

I got to the start line about 30 minutes prior to the race start.  It worked out perfect, since I was able to change socks, shoes and shirt.  The dry clothes felt great.  Plus, I had a chance to eat some real food.  Anyway, the race started about 15 minutes late, but I was OK with that.  The pre-race brief really put my whole run into perspective.  The unit that had organized the run lost one of their own this past week, leaving behind a pregnant wife and 5 year old son.  The race was dedicated to him.

Cruising through the crowd, it was fun to listen to the folks complaining about how they felt at mile 3.  I coulndn’t help but smirk as I went by.  The course was a fun course, being more a trail run that an road run.  It was a welcome change, especially since the first 30 miles were all on asphalt.  But the way they soak down the dirt, it becomes harder than concrete and nowhere near as smooth.  But I was pretty adept at finding lines in the softer sand.  Even through this stretch, my run pace was averaging 9:00/mile, while the walk breaks kept my mile splits between 10:00  and 10:30/mile pace.

After mile 36, we transitioned from the dirt roads back to the asphalt.  The transition between these two runs flipped the switch.  A small rise and turn and that was it.  Immediately, the legs decided they just weren’t going to move as fluid as they had.  So I just kept working through it.  My overall pace started dropping pretty rapidly, but I knew I was going to finish.

At mile 37.5, I stepped into the porta-loo.  That was a good sign, since I was doing everything I could to make sure I remained properly hydrated.  For some reason I decided to stop my Garmin, which I never do for a potty stop.  And since it’s something I don’t normally do, I didn’t restart it.  I realized that mistake 1.5 miles later.  And since part of the requirements for the B-Fit Birthday challenge are to post a bit of proof, I needed to make sure my Garmin showed at least 40.0 miles.  So my 40-mile run now became a 41.5-mile run.

But that was OK, since it lined up well with another run I was participating in.  The folks that put on the Harpeth Hills Flying Monkey Marathon had put together a 42-mile “fun run”, which just happened to be today.  No entry fee, no support, just folks getting together to run.  Pretty much what I was doing, so I signed up as the Baghdad contingent.

Those last miles were tough.  My watch was beeping at me to keep me on schedule for the 4-minute run/1-minute walk plan, but I ignored it.  Luckily my very understanding support crew kept supporting me even though they were beginning to hurt too.  When I wanted to just walk the rest of the way, they’d wordlessly start running, knowing I’d follow.  So we managed to get across the line.

Details:

40.0 miles

Total running time: 7:15:57

Total clock time: 8:25

Fastest pace a 3:58 mile?  Yeah, right.

And the quick GBU rundown:

The Good:

- I absolutely nailed this taper.  Perfect.  Although I had struggled with maintaining a high mileage peak during August and I was concerned, the taper really set me up for a great run.  Even a week ago, I was starting to get concerned, but then this week I could feel my legs getting real twitchy and just begging for a long run.  Even last Sunday’s half-marathon was just a tease for them.  This week’s nightly 3-4 mile runs were just a tease too.

- Carbo load period.  This was difficult for me to get through.  Having done an excellent job of sticking to a Paleo/Primal diet, the only way that I could load properly for this run was to eat stuff that I hadn’t had in almost five months.  And honestly, I hadn’t missed it.  By the time I woke up just prior to the run, I knew that I had loaded properly, feeling completely bloated.  I know the load was a signficant part of my success.

- Electrolyte load period.  Hindsight over my past race issues pointed to a lack of electrolytes, even though I regularly take pills during the events; turns out that those were just staving off the inevitable, which was compelete depletion, since I’m such a heavy sweater.  Discussing with other endurance athletes, we came to the conclusion that I’d likely need to load up on electrolytes in the days prior to the event.  I did, and it worked very well.  None of the issues that I had in the past.

- Pacing.  Working (and working, and working) on pacing during my long runs this year has really helped.

- Thanks to Ramadan, the call to prayer started at 3am.  I can’t describe how beautiful the prayers sound, echoing through the night.

- Great support!  Not just here, but around the world.  A co-worker ran with me virtually while in Afghanistan, Goddess ran with me in Kentucky, and the many folks here who supported me via e-mails and actually running.  I couldn’t have done it without them.

- 40 miles!

The Bad:

- Doing something out of practice.  Stopping that Garmin at mile 37.5 really changed the face of the last few miles.  I knew I’d have to run a bit past the finish line of the 15K to make the full 40, but having to run a full two miles after that was mentally tough.

The Ugly:

- ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!

And for now, a few days off from running, then nothing focused for a little while.  But not too long, since I now need to teach my legs how to run hills over distance, since I’ll be running the Harpeth Hills Flying Monkey marathon soon after I return home.  And that marathon is nothing but hills.

PR! But not mine

From this past Sunday, posted today due to internets access issues here in my room.

—————————————————————————-

Ran a half-marathon this morning.

It was the “shadow run” of the Roadrunner Akron Marathon. But due to infrastructure and heat issues, the longest we can do here is a 1/2 marathon.

The course was for the most part new to me. I hadn’t run a large portion of this course, so it was a nice change of pace. The scenerey was about as good as it could get along tree-lined streets. The only downside was that they ran out of water at one of the stops, which turned out to be a problem for others, but not for me. I was sporting my Fuel Belt and carrying my Quickdraw water bottles, so I had plenty for the entire run. Matter of fact, as we passed the “empty” water stop, I passed my bottle to a lady who was desperately in need of some water.

read the rest here…

Knowing

I’m not a religious person, by any stretch of the imagination.  But that doesn’t mean that I’m ignorant in the ways of the major religions.

I do accept that there are some things that are not ours to know.

Jim Vance posted an ESPN video documenting Ryan Shay’s life and the impact of his death on his family and community.  One can’t help but be moved by it.

Especially rough is the pain and questioning of our friend’s death, which was just two weeks ago today.  We were glad that Goddess was able to make it to Colorado to help the family attend to his wife and two lovely daughters, aged 3 and 5.  Thoughts of him and his family helped me get through some tough moments during Saturday’s marathon.

We found out yesterday that she’s pregnant with their third child.

Some things just aren’t ours to know.

Life, or something like it

Been a crazy week.

After last weekend’s long run and some other stuff, it was a week out on the east coast.  It was nice to run with the ocean breeze in my face as it warmed up through the week.  It’s taper time, so the runs were short (5-7 miles), but the pace was brisk.  Especially one evening when I was 3 miles from the hotel and realized that I had to get back to the room, shower and drive across town to meet folks for dinner – in 30 minutes.

I made it.

Midway through the week, Goddess got ahold of me.  Horrible news.  The husband of her bridesmaid, who just turned 31, didn’t wake up Wednesday morning, passing sometime overnight.  Apparently it was a congenital heart issue, although you’d never know it.  He was a healthy man.  Left behind a wife and two daughters, aged 5 and 3.  A bit of scrambling and we worked out travel arrangments for Goddess to get out to Colorado.

Unfortunately she landed less than two hours after the funeral.

But we got her out there.

A bit of shuffling to get Skinny a sitter for the weekend, since we had already made plans to be out of town.  So after dropping Goddess off at the airport, I drove Son and two of his friends north to Louisville.  We were off to see Gigantour, which we had been looking forward to since January.  The lineup was High on Fire (meh) Job For a Cowboy (meh), Children of Bodom (excellent), In Flames (good) and Megadeth (great).

I  didn’t enjoy it as much as I was hoping, mainly because I was worried about Goddess traveling (although she has traveled halfway across the world by herself), about her friend, her friend’s girls and the emotional trauma that I could only imagine that they were all going through (or about to in Goddess’ case).

But the show went on for six hours, which is about 30 minutes past the limit my ears (as well as Son and his friends) can take.  Even with earplugs.  Shame too, since that happened during Megadeth, who I’ve followed since the mid-80’s.  I was jazzed since this was the first time I’ve been able to catch them live.

And what was a first in the hundreds of concerts that I’ve been to over the past 25 years – the concert was paused for safety.  During Children of Bodom’s set, the crowd surged forward hard enough to break the barrier.  They cut the power to the stage and Bodom left for 30 minutes, giving the crew enough time to fix the barrier.  I was sitting up in the stands at that point so I had a pretty good view of everything.  Son was down in the crowd and immediately texted “WTF?”, so I talked him through it.

We got back to the hotel at 1230am.  Much to their chagrin, I woke them up at 700am.  Nothing like trying to wake three 16 year old’s up after only six hours of sleep.  But we had to get on the road so I could get back and spend the rest of the day writing a paper for school.

Joy.

Marathon in 5.5 days.

Moments of Zen

Both Frazz and Caulfield hit this nail on the head.  I defrag using both methods.

Travel this week threw any semblance of a training regiment out the window.  Managed to miss our flight out by 5 minutes, thanks to an extremely full parking area that forced us to park somewhere in Minnesota in order to catch our flight in Nashville.  By the time we got into the hotel in SC, it was 1230am.  Typically I’d get up at 430am to run, but that wasn’t going to happen since I had to be in a meeting at 7am.

Worked all day, had dinner with friends that I hadn’t seen in many years, then it was off to bed before getting up early to head to the airport.  And the whole time I was glad I wasn’t flying American.

Sipping coffee this morning, looking out the window and wondering why there were barricades up along the road behind our house.  Then the bikes started flying by.  It was a youth triathlon, based out of the indoor pool down the block.  So Goddess and I got out there to cheer the little ones on.  Age groups were broken up into 6-7, 8-9, 10-11 and 12-13.

The 6-7 AG, especially the women, was the best.  Flying on a schweet pink Schwinn, complete with matching pink corduroys, pink down jacket (it was cool and windy) and pink helmet, the lanterne rouge of the event did it in style.  She’ll be rockin’ the course for years to come.  Watch out Amanda!

School work and a long run is all that’s in store for this weekend.  Well, that and washing and repacking, since I’ll be traveling again this week.  Meh.