Part IV

Suppose I've kept y'all waiting long enough!

I've been distracted reading "Every Man Dies Alone" at nights by Hans Fallada. Takes place in Germany during WWII. Good so far. Not great. A bit transparent but recommendable. Also I've been watching my Heat win games. That takes priority of course...and lately the Warriors too...

So onwards to Part IV we go.

The Drama subsides and a new relationship thrives

So we last left off with Conor moving to DC, me having a boyfriend, and him dating my nemesis instead (Editor's Note: Eh, these things happen).  To make a long story, well a little less long considering we’re already on part 4, the next year (2008) had many ups and downs.  Conor and I would try to be friends, start to become more, then wind up hating each other, and not speak for a period of weeks or even months.  I ended and restarted my other relationship a few times.  Lots of drama, lots of pain, and a brief loss of my sanity in the spring time (Editor's Note: quick recap: brief breakup, quick rendezvous, week of turmoil and shunning us both then shockingly going back to him...yuck).  We’re talking full week of confusion and bad choices.  Eventually I managed to regain some semblance of normal brain function, and Conor and I went back to our separate relationships; angry, hurt, and determined to move past each other.  For full disclosure, this particular incident was entirely my fault.  I didn’t know what I wanted, couldn’t figure out my own heart, and hurt everyone around me trying to wade through it all.  But, we must move on…

After not speaking from March through the summer, Conor and I were not in each other’s lives (Editor's Note: Just in our thoughts).  I knew based on this blog and facebook he was still in a steady relationship with that girl, and I just put it to the very back of my mind and ignored it (as much as you can ignore someone while checking their blog).  After a summer of disappointment in my own relationship, I realized there just wasn’t a future and I had to end it once and for all.  We weren’t compatible in the short term or long term.  He was a (Editor's Note: Douche) nice guy, just not for me.

I suppose I had known all along there was no future, but the beginning of the relationship was good in the present tense.  I hate to say it, but I think it was a convenient relationship in law school that I mistook for more (someone going through the same thing I was, same group of friends, etc).  But, by the end of the summer of 2009, it was pretty bad in the present too and I knew I had to end it once and for all.

I made sure not to tell or even contact Conor after the break up.  I was determined not to repeat past mistakes.  A month after the break up I knew Conor’s 24th birthday was coming up.  I decided I’d email him a nice birthday email just to extend the olive branch.  But, when I woke up that morning, email already drafted (painstakingly so!) the night before so as to ensure early morning delivery, the jack ass beat me to it. (Editor's Note: MMhhhhmmmm. Sure ya did ;))  He later said he thought I’d email, and wanted to be able to have the upper hand and beat me to the punch.

We slowly started emailing again, a few per week.  Eventually, after about a month maybe, we texted and eventually beefed up to a phone call.  He was traveling for work, and gave me a call.  2+ hours later I knew my feelings for him were anything but gone. (Editor's Note: I was giving speeches at Florida State) I felt our old connection, without the accompanying baggage of the last year.  Well, except that he was still dating, and thinking about getting serious with the other girl.  My heart dropped when I heard this, but I wasn’t going to interfere.  I had lost my chance…many times over, and I was not going to step in again now. 

Or so I told myself.  Until he asked me point blank if I still had feelings for him and if I wanted to be with him.  I tried to hedge but he wouldn’t let me.  So I told him the truth.  I told him I still cared about him and that I knew my feelings for him were something so strong and special, that after all the drama, I couldn’t shake them.  I told him I didn’t think he should be with her but I also wanted him to be happy.  If he was happy with her, I’d accept it and support him.  Well, he had some things to think about. (Editor's Note: Which I did. So I went to a strip club to think it through...what? I was traveling)

I can only imagine the inner turmoil he experienced over the next week or two.  He cared about her, and she had treated him well.  He was happy with her and they got along.  Why should he give that up for any uncertainty with me?  And, having nothing to do with me, did he want a future with her?  What about returning to his bachelor days?  Or giving someone new without the tortured history a try?  Eventually, we agreed to meet up for lunch.  The first time we’d seen each other in almost 6 months.  I expected to just catch up and have a casual lunch. (Editor's Note: yaaaa, pretty much impossible for us). 

But this is us we’re talking about.  Nothing between us has ever been casual, not from the very beginning.  After pleasantries and quick anecdotes, we got down to business.  Are we really gonna do this thing?  Are we crazy for even thinking about it?  Had we lost our window?  Lunch turned into a walk turned into night time and walking to the bus stop.  As we parted ways, it was mostly decided.  Okay, here we go! (Editor's Note: Mind you this was during my workday. My work ethic is second to none. Now I just go on runs.)

Once we made the decision, there was no going back.  If we were gonna give it a try, we had to be all in.  We both had a lot to get over, a lot of hurt feelings and baggage, but so much to look forward to. Our first date we talked about hypothetical marriage and kids. (editor's note: and other pleasantries like how many kids we'd have and the like) This was no ordinary first date, but by this point we had been through so much, we couldn’t start from scratch.  

But we did.  We started seeing each other a few times a week and slowly we were able to recapture the excitement of beginning a relationship.  Because, after all, we had never actually been in one, not in the traditional sense at least.  We let the old issues go, and got to know each other again.  There were certainly some bumps along the way.  But mostly, despite our high drama filled first few years, once we got together, that was it.  We knew this could be forever.  Neither of us had experienced the passion, emotion, and connection before. 

Knoxville...

Welp...that didn't exactly go as planned. Last year, as you may recall, I had the most magnificent experience in Knoxville, Tennessee. It wasn't exactly a 'local' triathlon as I initially believed (or more like declared indignantly)...right about 8 hours and some change to be precise. Nevertheless I had an almost spiritual awakening attending Reid Owen and his sister's fundraiser. To refresh your memory, the two older brothers pull Caroline in the swim in a canoe and then they do the bike solo, followed by running and pushing her as she pedals in some bike-type contraption. It's awesome. Really heartwarming stuff.

I haven't spent too much time with Reid this year as he's preparing for a large Indian wedding on Labor Day weekend (along with being ya know an attorney and all that legal shit it entails). This year they declined to host their fundraiser (most likely bc they lost money since I devoured so much of the catered food last year) so I only met up with Reid briefly for the pre-race swim and the morning of the race. His brother is now a badass road biker who races competitively. Dude dropped 50 pounds in two years. It can be done ladies and gents.

Driving down we did not get a speeding ticket which was refreshing. We brought Leroy along with us who was hemmed in by my bike. Poor guy. He looked forlorn a bit as the ride progressed and the rain trickled down the windshield. We stopped in Blacksburg again (which we loved last time) and had a delicious vegan feast at Gillies. Love that spot. Very cool town.

Got to Knoxville just in time for me to get in my second slow run of the day and head over to check-in so we could bypass the lines on Saturday. Little did we know that the lines on Saturday would be practically zilch as rain continued to pound the Smoky Mountain region.

The next day we went to the awesome Market Square that plays host to one of the freshest, diverse farmer's markets I've been to. Tons of excellent baked goodies and cheeses and pies. A little light on produce (okay a lotta light if you ask Ash), but they do have custom furnishings and plants so it's all good in the hooooood.

Also drank some savory coffee from Coffee and Chocolate. Yum.

Anyway, we headed down for the swim where the temperature was 56 degrees. Brrrrrrrr. I put on my wetsuit and tepidly approached the dock. I wanted to wade in but that's not exactly possible. Mostly cuz it being a fucking dock and all. So yeah. Off I went.

WOWOWOW! That'll wake you up. My face felt like a gallon of aftershave was waterboarded on top if it. My lord. The rest of my body was surprisingly warm (likely numb). I swam a good amount. Maybe 1000 meters. Wasn't working out aside from that so wanted to get something in.

Ate some cheese and mushroom pizza in the late afternoon and basically called it a day. We walked Leroy some and explored the expo but nothing too exciting.

That night I had a series of nightmares. One was so bad I almost turned to Ash and told her not to let me race. My tires were bald. The roads were slick. And downhill. With a few sets of railroad tracks thrown in for good measure. Don't get me wrong, it's a great course. Really challenging. But SUPER unsafe in those conditions. Not to mention the forecast was calling for 52 degrees and rain. So visibility would be poor. And I'd be shivering.

And I traveled hundreds of miles for this!?!?!

Ugh. Despite my inhibitions I rolled outta bed on time and slapped my wetsuit back on. Was gonna be a tough day. But no different for anyone else. Promised a million times just to take it slow on the bike. Slow on the bike. Slow on the bike.

The swim was right about 55 degrees. Frigid, yes, but having the pre-race swim quelled my nerves a bit. Shoulder felt fine. The current was a GENEROUS downhill. It's 500m upstream, 1000m down. So you get a huge net benefit. I was fairly pleased with my time. I started in the 4th row b/c last year I had a mini-panic and busted out backstroke and wanted no encore performance.

The transitions were an absolute shit show. I spent over five minutes in T1. I promised the fiance to wear two layers. I then proceeded to knock over my helmet which spilled out my glasses which popped out a lens. Lovely chain of events just then. Coulda gone without that. I actually wasn't overly displeased b/c I wasn't gonna factor in transitions in my time. Sure, the race results would, but I was just doing this race as a workout and to stay safe given the conditions.

Once on the bike I knew things would blow worse than hot air balloons.

And....let's hold off for a part II. I'm tired. As of course, I had an 11 mile run today (after no soreness whatsoever today). Part 4 of Ash's post is ready to roll. So keep an eye out for two new installments coming your way in a jiff..

Guns

I've never shot a gun in my life. Even though I grew up in Phoenix, Arizona, one of the most ardent gun-toting cities in the nation. As a pacifist, guns are anathema to everything I believe is righteous and moral. Beyond the ethical ramifications of firing a weapon, guns are instruments of power. They demand our attention and respect. We don't taunt people with guns. We fear them. We may not fear the individual, but we fear the tool at their disposal. Guns are used to maim or kill. And since I only wish to live in peace with my close friends and family, and desire no ill-will in my short life, I do not partake in gun culture. To those who do, it's their prerogative. We all have different values and upbringings and I don't claim moral superiority over others.

As the influx of shootings and bombings hit its crescendo (we hope), the nation is abuzz with impassioned pleas for gun control legislation and policy. Many liberals are (curiously) outraged at the lack of urgency and clout behind passing significant (while really diluted) regulations. I add 'curiously', because the gullibility of the average person never ceases to amaze me. Maybe it's false optimism, but to project hope and opportunity into an oligarchy we call 'democracy' befuddles me. **Even for something as simple as background checks, which is a fairly vanilla policy why would anyone expect smooth sailing?**

Of course, I'm not one to defend the merits of democracy - as it is and always will be a more benign version of tyranny enforced by a plutocracy that entitles the elites to power and benefits while controlling the greater population and simultaneously remaining immune to the very same laws it passes onto the rest of the unlucky denizens (us). It's a system of power used to control others. EVERY system of power deserves our scorn and not our approbation. It is nothing shy of travesty, that all of the population is convinced and transfixed with the idea that democracy actually is something to die for and/or some beacon of freedom. It's maddening. But for another day. I don't want to get into the lesser of two evils argument now.

I do write the preceding paragraph however to set up my opinion. I do not believe in gun control legislation UNLESS it is enforced across the board. What I mean is, freedom is only as good as its universality. This is why blacks took to the streets for their freedom and right to vote. This why gays are doing the same with the right to marry. Rights (which SHOULD NOT be granted by any government ANYWAY) are distributed equally and unanimously. If I can't own a home, fine. As long as no one else can, I am more or less okay with that. I don't believe in selective principles. Rights are for all of us, everyone.

So if the government wants to ban assault weapons, great. Confiscate them from the military too. And police. If they want to institute background checks, great. Subject all public personnel to the same scrutiny and bureaucracy as the rest of us. I will NEVER voluntarily relinquish a right while concomitantly empowering others. That is worse than foolish. It is insane. It is what Nazis did to the Jews. It is what the Soviets did to their people. It is what Pol Pot did to the Cambodians.

On a similar note,it is why Iran and other nations are so obstinate about developing uranium. Why should other nations have access and others not? And the U.S. is by far the LEAST credible source to be spearheading any anti-nuclear weapon agreements. Maybe Iran and other 'hostile' nations wouldn't want to obtain these despicable weapons if other nations decommissioned their own. But of course they won't. Relinquishing advantages is never something a nation does.

Perhaps you think I'm crazy. You think cops and the military are benevolent arbiters of justice. If you believe that, and bless your heart, you are ignorant. I don't mean that in an offensive way. I just intimate that you're not reading the stacks of information available that prove governments across the world have practically a monopoly on violence. And it makes perfect correlative sense that those with the most weapons - are those who are most apt to kill. Thousands of stories exist of police brutality, mistaken shootings, false raids, drone bombings, etc. Which doesn't even mention warfare and even the Arab Spring which is a bunch of wannabe governments trying to control others. They all deserve our scorn and opposition.

In a sense, I am torn. Fewer guns mean fewer deaths. I want fewer guns. I want fewer deaths. But not unless all are subject to the same. Since it's getting late I won't continue my thoughts but I will briefly mention that violence is often undertaken because of someone's perceived or actual grievance. And it is my belief, that many grievances stem from the inequity individuals feel in their life. And the greatest inequity that exists is any governing body ruling over others.

Garmin Stats for Today...

Felt actually pretty good. Seeing how it's my first run back outside post-concussion. I did a couple shorter runs before just to test on the treadmill and felt strong so that's a good sign. This is at LSD pace, so a pace I feel comfortable cruising at..though the last few miles were tough...but the elevation chart is tough there if you peep it...

Part III

Before we begin this latest edition, a brief update. Again, thanks for all your comments and concerns. They're a pleasure to read and I feel lucky to receive 'em. Today I ran 11.5 miles outside (slow). I was kinda nervous as I haven't done anything outdoors....but I gotta. Knoxville is in 10 days. 10 DAYS!!!!! Holy lordy. So ya, I gotta start training again. And I honestly don't know if I'm gonna be able to race. I really don't know if my shoulder has a cuff tear/ligament issue. I have trouble just putting on a shirt. It's a sharp pain. And the pain is in my neck as well. They SAID I don't have any breaks which is awesome. But that doesn't mean that structurally something is wrong. Anyway, cross your fingers. Hoping to swim some time ASAP. Like Wed/Thursday. So keep posted. And I may be biking outside tomorrow....we'll see. So anyway...shutup Conor...onto Part 3 from the girl's perspective.  We last left off in San Diego after an intense but complicated semester~~~

After I graduated from San Diego State, we kept in touch through the summer, mostly through texts and emails and the occasional phone call.  I texted him on my birthday to see if he’d remember.  When I was still in San Diego we had seen advertisements everywhere for the Simpsons Movie, which came out on my birthday…which I told him about a dozen times just as a reminder of the date since he wanted to see it (Editors Note: Figures...cartoons get me every time).  The day came and mostly went with no word.  That night he called just to say hi, and didn’t mention it.  Turns out he had forgotten, but called because he was thinking about me.  Great, but not quite what I was hoping for. (Editors Note: Points for trying...)

 Soon enough I was off to law school at George Washington in DC. (Editor's note: Yeeepppp, she's a keeper)  I was excited to meet new people, but nervous of the horror stories I’d heard about how awful law school would be.  Visions of 24 hours stints locked away in a library vault surviving on nothing but red bull and vending machines.  Thankfully, that wasn’t in my future.  

Conor and I were talking quite a bit.  I was updating him on my move and new classes and new people.  He was finishing up his last semester of senior year, super star of the Newspaper.  A few weeks into the semester, he decided that we should stop contact so that I could fully adjust to my new surroundings.  Um. Okay….that’s retarded, was my basic reaction.

 But, we did stop talking and I realized just how much he meant to me.  Which triggered the next thought: I’ll probably never see him again.  What’s the point?  Begrudgingly I resigned myself to being just long distance friends who happen to have sporadic 3 hour conversations.  I dated a bit throughout the year, (Editor's Note: Wait...what???) and around April I began a relationship with a guy from law school. (Edtior's Note: Again...what?!?!) Simple and easy, we starting calling each other boyfriend/girlfriend.  That summer was a lot of fun.  Conor and I still talked, and he wasn’t happy about the new guy, but things seemed okay between us. (Editor's Note: what a tool that guy was)

 Until I got the brilliant idea to send my friend from law school, who was from San Diego, back home with his number, thinking maybe they could hang out and be friends.  #horriblelifechoices.  She knew I still had feelings for him earlier in the year, but I tried to convince her (and moreso myself) that I was over him.  So she decided to totally break girl code and go after him. (Editor's Note: This is true. We hit it off.) She met him, and when she came back she relished in showing me snippets of their conversations and flirty exchanges.  It drove me insane but I couldn’t show it.  I was in a happy and healthy relationship, and developing feelings for this new guy.  Why should I care what Conor was doing? And furthermore, who cares if they’re texting, he lives all the way in San Diego.

 Well, that last fact was about to change.  Unbeknownst to me as I spent my Spring semester swearing him off, Conor was applying to jobs in DC to be closer to me. (Editor's Note: She had no idea I was trying to get closer to her) In July, Conor came out to interview with the hosts of our internship program, to recruit for them.  I again went to the airport with butterflies in my stomach to pick up my “old friend.”  Again, sparks were flying. (Editor's Note: She looked fucking hot. Really hot.)  At the time I tried to ignore them, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he still had a hold over me, and wanting to be faithful to my current boyfriend. (Editor's Note: Wait..what!?!) I was successful in the latter part, but Conor could see through my rouse.  At the time, I honestly thought I was over him. Honestly thought it was just an old crush and the question of “what if.”  Questions I didn’t have to answer so long as he didn’t get the job.

 But of course he did. (Editor's Note: True story: I bribed them with chocolate. Always bring chocolate with you to interview. It's impossible for them not to hire you after) A recent graduate of the program who loved to speak, travel, and recruit?  Easy hire.  Then, as they say, Shit got real.

 Conor moved to D.C. and we carried on our friendship.  But each time we would meet up the same thing would happen.  We would have an amazing time, watching a movie or going to a political event, and the night would always end in a huge fight.  He didn’t understand why I didn’t break up with my boyfriend.  I couldn’t understand how, after what I felt was a year of rejection, he expected to move here without telling me, and have me drop everything to be with him.  Plus, we fought every time we saw each other!  Of course it was over not being together, but I didn’t make that differentiation then.  I just convinced myself we were not compatible and better as friends. Editor's Note: :( ) 

 During this time, he decided to start dating the aforementioned girl code breaker.  Yeah.  Can’t say I was terribly happy with that one. (Editor's Note: Well. Lesson learned. Shoulda dumped the loser boyfriend and this wouldn't a happened !!! lol) Plus, she and I’s friendship was over for unrelated reasons, so I could focus my hatred on one set of people, force myself to ignore it, and focus on my current drama free relationship. Until I created drama that is…

Update...

So, first, thank you all kindly for your nice comments and words of support. They truly mean a lot and it's nice to know that I have people who care for me. So thanks :).

As to the hospital visit itself...um. Wow. Was. That. Bad! Talk about adding insult to injury. I was delivered in my gurney to Suburban Hospital in Bethesda. I had no say in this clearly, as the lead paramedic was adamant about taking me here. Wish I coulda had that one back (plus I was half mile from Sibley). The treatment was misery.

First, I got stuck with a rookie in the paramedic van who couldn't tell gauze from scissors. I'm not kidding. He actually handed the other dude the wrong thing. His colleague was so frustrated that at some point he yelled, "Can you at least answer the radio!?!" To which novice-dude says, "Na, haven't been trained." Great. Health care in the USA ladies and gents. Little did I know this was just an appetizer to the entree that would become my night.

Once in the hospital I waited for about 1/2 hour in a hallway. I was not an emergency (at least not comparatively) so I had to wait my turn. This was agonizing. I was laying on a board shaking profusely. It was the most uncomfortable and vulnerable I've felt in..well..ever.

Finally, they injected me with some Iodine and ran a million tests. A CT scan, a bunch of x-rays, etc. At some point (on the verge of tears) I mustered, "Would be nice if someone would get me something for my pain." Ya. The doctor or radiologist or whoeverthefuck was helping me for this particular moment looked stunned that I wasn't sedated yet. So she scrambled to grab some other dipshit who was authorized to help me manage my pain. I sound bitter and nasty, but I'm trying to depict just how awful this experience ACTUALLY was.

Literally an hour or more into the hospital I got my first wave of relief. In form of some saline inject which I now believe was Dilaudid(sp?). Whew. Needed that. I stopped shaking at the very least. At this point I knew Ash was on her way even though I pleaded with her not to come. One nurse held the phone to my ear for a couple minutes (by far the nicest thing anyone did for me during the ordeal) and I got to speak with her. At that point I began to sob a bit as I know I ruined her nice weekend with her family. She had left only a few hours earlier that morning to celebrate her sister's birthday and spend some quality family time. Oops. Coulda gone without that.

Anyway, I was placed in some holding room (cell?), and watched some of the Master's. As a big Tiger Woods fan, I was happy he was playing well.

Another hour or two pass and the doc says I had a concussion. She said everything else miraculously came out okay. No broken bones. No torn rotator cuff/ligaments that she could tell. Wow. I was shocked. In a good way. At this point I already resigned myself to a lost season and all my fitness down the tubes. Now there was hope for this year yet.

A couple more hours and I was transferred upstairs where I would stay for the night. The doctor said she needed to monitor me overnight to make sure I don't go into seizure and start eating tray tables or exhibiting any other abnormal symptoms.

I was not pleased about this. But trying to view things with a shred of gratitude I accepted her offer. Well, it wasn't an offer really. It was more like, "You're staying here tonight." So, yeah. I stayed. I showed her.

Little did I know I would never see her again. Upstairs the nurses on duty was like a scene from hell. Not the sliver of misery I've come to enjoy. oh no. That woulda been a reprieve. This was a fckin nightmare. Each nurse was more unfriendly, uncaring, and incompetent than the last. It was shocking. Absolutely appalling. Some highlights:

1) Being lectured. "Sir, you need to sit down and be patient. This is what's gonna happen." Um....uh uh. This is NOT how you treat a patient. ESPECIALLY as I had been patient and he REFUSED to dress my wounds. He waited an hour and a half and STILL didn't. Ash had to finally do it herself. It was insane. He said he couldn't get neosporene. In a FUCKING HOSPITAL. God, wow. Getting heated recapping this for y'all.

2) Coming in twice. Once at 1:45 AM, again at 3:30AM. No knock. No hello. No check of any kind. Just open the door, turn light on. Scratch one name off the board. Replace it with another. Do nothing. Leave room with light still on. I'm serious people this happened TWICE!

3) Security taking an hour to locate our stuff. Had I not put in a 'special' request to obtain my garmin, ipod and sunglasses they never woulda found it and it woulda been left there. They did have my bike thank god. I did ask about it on the hour I recollect.

4) Coming into actually do something (check blood pressure) and then not documenting or looking at the results. Ash was pretty livid about this one. She was irate most of the time at the poor level of care. I had to calm her down and pacify her as best as possible. And then she had to practically physially restrain me once I was off my meds.

Meds make me haaaaaappppyyyyyyyy.

Anyway, enough about that. Onto Boston....

I cried for almost an hour. I've been such a wreck lately. I was on the phone with my Mom Monday and just lost it. Andy (look for him and his blog in comment section!) was there! Haven't talked to him yet but I just can't imagine. I can't. I'm so so SOOOOOO sickened by it. One side effect of concussion is to be highly emotional in the immediate aftermath. I've exhibited that symptom (along with every other one) to a T. I'm like Niagra Falls. I can't stop crying.

Maybe I'll post more about it but I'm actually tearing up again thinking about it. I'm not even angry I'm just overcome with grief and anguish.

Bike Crash

****Or what can also be said is...from 33 mph to asphalt in .04 seconds. Don't try this at home kids. The news thus far is that I sustained a concussion and serious abrasions/contusions but no broken bones (THANK GOD!). You can see how fast I was going before the crash if you click on 'view details' above. FYI, when you try to crash, try to do it on an uphill and not a down. The 33 mph to 0.0 says enough. Then I was writhing in agony on the ground...you can also tell the time it took for the ambulance to arrive and how long that luxurious ride was haha. Then the garmin stayed active for 11 hours inside Suburban hospital in Bethesda, Maryland.****

Sooner or later it happens to anyone. When I was a 5th Grader my front tire wasn't on tight enough and I flipped over the handle bars. I was probably going 6 mph at the time and the injuries were mostly to my pride. I was however, pretty upset and humiliated as it happened right next to some friends I recently made. But since then I've ridden 1000's of miles and ensure I check my brakes, tire pressure, cables, chain, crank, etc. each time before I ride. Never a crash. Precaution is key.

Yesterday, I was prepped for my 31 mile time trial I like to do about once a week. It's the same course each time so I know it perfectly.

Before I left, and sometime last week, I noticed my left cleat (contraption on the bottom of bike shoes that's compatible with a certain type of pedal in my case LOOK) was shredded down. The right one was in mint condition. But the left one was really flimsily on. I was concerned about it. For the past week I vowed to replace it. But soon enough the weekend came, and I headed out. Before I left my house I manually (with my hand) snapped my shoe into the pedal 4 times. I wanted to see if it would last for one final ride. Snapped like Rice Krispies. Good deal. Just to be sure, before I started the ride I did a preliminary 2-3 miles to double-check. Didn't have a problem whatsoever.

So off I went. I started my Garmin and was ready for another lovely adventure on the bike. The ride starts with a GLORIOUS 2-300m descent where I can reach speeds up to 35 mph with ease. It transitions to flat ground thereafter so smart riders gain a lot of momentum that first 1-2 miles off that decline.

I glided for a few seconds before hitting the gas and cranking. Unfortunately when I pushed down on with my left leg (with a lot of leverage) I snapped out of the pedal. Shit. I was already in aero position (probably shouldn't have been) and was already a bit uneasy. I immediately had to get a better handle over the bike before I lost control. So I grabbed the side mounts and 'stood up'. Mind you, this is a tri-bike and I'm going downhill so ALL my momentum is going forward. Thankfully, I was able to avoid losing control and instead of coasting to a stop or hitting the brakes, I did one more mistake that led me to the hospital.

I tried to re-snap in on the descent. BIIIIIG mistake. At this point I'm at the very spot of downhill to flat transition and trying to cling onto the last bit of momentum I previously lost from snapping out. My intent was to get a couple more pedals from the downhill and keep 30mph for the first 1/2 mile.

Well, I couldn't snap back in. All I remember was pushing down like I've done 1000 times before and then realizing within nanoseconds that I was gonna crash. Hard. All my weight SHOULD have gone into the pedal. Instead, since I didn't snap in, it just went somewhere in the left side abyss. MEaning ALL of my balance was thrown off. Oopsy.

Next thing I know I'm tumbling down. It happened instantaneously, yet slow-motion all the same. I remember knowing I was crashing and thinking "Oh Fuck Conor this is not good". Literally that's what I remember. Behind me was a car who stopped apparently to see if I was okay. Coincidentally two roadies were treated to a front-row show as they were stopped at the stop sign across the street and the accident happened directly in front of their eyes. They also stopped.

What I remember is grimacing and being in severe pain. I was clutching my shoulder and putting my right elbow in a mock sling. I thought my collar bone was jutting out of my neck it was hurting so bad. I crawled to the side of the street and they were saying things like, "Oh My God! Are you okay! Oh Jesus". Yes, was a religious experience ladies and gents.

I tried to brave the fall and act like it was all good. I wanted to get back on my bike and shake it off. To prove my resilience, I stood up after I had crawled off to the side only to be overcome with the largest bout of nausea I have ever experienced. And this is from a guy who used to get car sick. Not to mention airsick and obviously (and still) seasick. My body started to shake as I looked up to the sky and everything was going black. I was losing my vision. I tumbled back down to the ground and sorta blacked out. When I came to a moment later, they were asking questions and debating how to get me to a hospital ASAP. I remember begging them NOT to call an ambulance, knowing how expensive they were and the fact that I was 1 mile away from the nearest hospital. I have vague memories of the three by-standers but I recall pleading with them not to call an ambulance and that I'd be okay in just a few short minutes.

Apparently at that point they started to ask me basic questions like, What's your name? How old are you? Where are you parked? Etc. Normally these are reflexive answers but I remember that I couldn't quite articulate them. I tried, but it seemed I had to search my brain to remember. Then I remember them asking something and I just kinda looked to the sky and to my right and laid down on the ground ( I was kinda leaning on my left side (the side I didn't fall on).

I suppose at that point is when they phoned 9-11. My body was shaking uncontrollably. I was told I was in shock. I laid down with my sunglasses still on and tried to relax. But the pain was excruciating.  I couldn't get any relief. Next thing I know I hear sirens, but never saw them. I continued to look in the sky. Then about 8 faces came in front of me asking questions and I struggled to reply quickly and accurately. They examined my helmet and noticed that it had hit the ground (and they said thank god you were wearing one or I may be dead or mentally impaired...well...moreso). They applied a neck brace and put me on a gurney. It was like laying on wood. Awfully uncomfortable. They strapped me in so I couldn't move whatsoever. All I remember is shaking, shaking and more shaking. I tried to stop but I couldn't...                                            

Cherry Blossom 10-Miler Race Report

Last Sunday I ran my second ever Cherry Blossom 10-Miler. For those not from the DC area, this is a landmark race. It is one of the best in the entire nation. A bucket list race. It is one of the few times DC roads are without the gridlock of cars, exchanged with the gridlock of pedestrians. Well, runners. Almost 20,000 actually. Over 17,000 finished. It's so massive that they have a lottery to determine who gets to race it.

PICS!!!!

During the winter I ran more than I ever have. I was diligent about it. I averaged between 30-40 miles per week. Aside from Spain which I still got in about 25 or so. For SERIOUS runners, this is pocket change, but to be a decent distance (1/2 marathon or less) runner this is more than enough mileage to be above average. Especially for triathletes like me who stick to short course.

Anyway, my first two races of the season (besides the indoor triathlon) are running tune-ups. It's a great way to see if I've made any gains in the off-season. And if the hard work and hours running paid off. I don't plan on getting much faster between now and the end of the season so most of the hard work has already been done and the remainder is just maintenance. Instead I'll look to polish up my bike form and fine-tune my swim a bit, as the season approaches.

But first was the Cherry Blossom. And next weekend is Pike's Peek 10k. An awesomely downhill course that I PR'd last year also on the schedule.

Based on my training, I figured I could run 63 minutes (6:18 pace). This is actually a bit ambitious as I NOTORIOUSLY bonk around mile 7/8 in almost all of my long runs (which is one of the reasons I prefer short course). But in the preceding weeks since Espana, I felt strong. I had some REALLY F'ING HARD speed workouts and a couple great tempo/threshold runs as well. More or less I knew it'd be tough to cling to that pace, but on the right day, in good conditions, I could do it.

My plan was to uh, stick to the plan so to speak. This is much more challenging than it seems for many reasons. First, I always feel great the first mile or so and it's easy to start too fast. Second, weaving in and out of people in the first few miles sometimes make me compensate and run too fast. Third, There's a decent downhill when you first start that you have to hold yourself back on, or you'll fatigue later in the race. Fourth, getting caught up in the fans who hang near the start and the other runners sprinting past you (only to bonk later) sometimes elicits a quicker pace. Anyway, long story short, run 6:20 per mile(s) and try to hit the halfway point at 31:30. That was the goal. Hopefully, if I was feeling okay I could ever-so-slightly increase the pace down to 6:15 or so on the home stretch. So that was the plan. Run even. Run strong. Run MY race. Negative split. Which rarely if never happens to me.

And....I executed my race plan to perfection. So I'm very pleased with my results. Sometimes I think it's rare for racers to race up to their potential. Either they shoot too high and are perpetually disappointed (fairly common). Or they do the opposite and claim they never train and are sick, etc. and easily snatch a PR (also relatively common). But it's nice when you train hard, set a reasonably ambitious goal, and execute. That's perfection in my eyes. So I am blessed and lucky that this race panned out in that regard.

The first few miles I stuck with the game plan and was ever so slightly behind pace. I was breathing comfortably, and tried to draft off some of the other racers. I also liked running with/next to someone to help push me to keep pace. Although sometimes that lulls you into their pace which may end up being a very different strategy than your own. Anyway, past the 5-mile in 31:32 so right where I wanted to be. Around mile 6 you encounter a FIERCE headwind. Ain't nutin to fck with. It slowed me down at least 10 seconds per mile. I tried to draft off others but kept getting caught between packs. What seemed like FOREVER finally got to the other side and the tailwind for the final stretch was $$$$$. Just what I needed. Plus, a dude passed me and I vowed to keep pace until the end. This definitely got me an extra 15-20 seconds so I'm stoked about that. And, ya, I outsprinted him at the end. I can outsprint anyone.

My finishing time was 62:29 so I did negative split. For those interested here are the results...you can click on 'Map', 'Place' and 'Finish' on the lefthand side for more detailed splits. Very advanced technology, eh? I placed 179th overall out of 17492. Pretty sweet.

Hope to post the Garmin Stats in the next day or so...but it's gonna look weird cuz I hustled over to run the 5k as a cool down with the fiancee after and kept the watch running.

Part II

Part 2 - A Budding Romance

I rushed to tell my roommates every detail about my magical night with this new guy (Editor's note: she means night with the magical man).  I could hardly contain my excitement riding home on the metro.  When I went to work the next day, I quickly looked up his columns.  They were clever, funny, and interesting (Editor's note: Take her word for it...they're actually pretty awful)  I found a good one to comment on, and used it as an excuse to text him.  We exchanged AIM names (back in the day before gchat…) and spent the entire day online chatting.  And the next.  And the next.  And so went the semester.

We would see each other during the internship events, but our connection blossomed through our internet conversations. We shared deep secrets, opinions and beliefs.  Joked and told stories.  Shared memories and hopes. (Editor's Note: As I like to say, hope in one hand and change in the other and see which one fills up first) 

One day we were talking about childhood trips to plays and shows.  “Rent?  I love Rent!  I know all the words”  He said.  Um.  What?  This macho alpha male just admitted to loving musicals.  Didn’t see that coming.  I began to think maybe he really was different, that whatever this budding romance was, could really be special.  

 In person, I was more reserved.  I couldn’t quite master the confident, witty, flirty banter we exchanged online.  I was nervous, and felt self conscious about every statement.  Slowly the chemistry from our hours of conversations overflowed into our in-person interactions.  We clearly enjoyed each other’s company, and as the semester progressed, we slowly started seeing each other more…and other daliances less. (Editor's Note: She was cramping my game hardcore) 

 By the end of the semester, I was pretty much head over heels. (Editor's Note: In her defense, she fell over a trashcan)  In retrospect I suppose I can see that he was feeling the same things, but back then I didn’t dare think so. (Editor's Note: tis' true, I was)  We ended our internship semester somewhat awkwardly.  We knew we were heading back to the same school, but had no clue what that would mean for “us,” if there was even to be an us. (Editor's Note: At San Diego State, our alma mater Go Aztecs!) 

 After the holiday break, I made it back to San Diego first after a 4 day drive with pops across the country from Northern Virginia (where I'm from).  A few days later, I picked Conor up at the airport when he arrived back from his home in Colorado.  I was so nervous I could hardly drive. (Editor's Note: Not sure that's necessarily related ;))  What did this mean, what was going to happen, what if everything we felt was temporary, what if he wasn’t interested anymore.  But we immediately fell back into the comfort and chemistry.  We laughed and talked about the holidays, and the new semester to come, my last in college.

 We spent almost every single day that semester together, but kept it mostly platonic.  Going to class, going out to eat, spending hours in the bookstore reading everything we could get our hands on. (Editor's Note: I've never met anyone who reads as much as me...God I'm just sooooo sophisticated aren't I?)  Movies.  Walks.  Hikes.  Laundry.  Beaches.  Suddenly, this person I did not even know existed last time I was in San Diego, became someone I couldn’t picture being without. (Editor's Note: :))

 There were certainly some bumps along the road.  I knew how I felt about him, and was in denial about it.  He “loved me sometimes,” (Editor's Note: A direct quote. Yesh.) because he was still reeling from a break up and couldn’t break down his own walls. (Editor's Note: Definitely True.)  He blamed the platonic nature of things on not letting me get too attached, but I already was.  Now I know he was protecting himself, because he knew in a few short months, I was moving across the country and we didn’t know if we’d ever see each other again.  Spoiler Alert....WE DID!

Guest Post Part I

As mentioned, I have a special guest posting today. She is going to tell a story...about...us. So without further adieu and interruption I'll allow her voice to shine through. But I may or may not sneak in some (Editor's Notes). So fuck the whole comment above about no interruption(s)...

Part I

Three Strikes and You’re…Still in the Game?

Fall semester of Senior year of college (2006), I decided to do an internship in Washington D.C. and spend the semester away from my undergrad.  Partially because I was idealistic and fascinated by politics, and partially because I wanted to be near family (Editor's Note: Mostly b/c she would be meeting me and therefore insanely stoked as you can expect).  Plus, I had hardly any classes left to graduate and I had to do something with my time before heading off for law school (at some as yet undetermined location)!

Sitting in the orientation for (Editor's Note: I think she means 'of' but I'll let it slide) 400 students, my new roommates and I rolled our eyes in unison to his response, which clearly had nothing to do with the question, asked by the moderator, “Yup, I’m single ladies.” (Editor's Note: The question the dude was asking was 'How many people have more than 6 siblings?")  Cocksure and arrogant, clearly a 20 year old boy.  Yet there was some charm in that full tooth bright white smile and wink…not like I’d ever admit it…

           

Attempt 1

            A few days later it was time for our first class.  We all had to take an academic class for credit along with the practical aspects of the internship.  With an eye toward law school, I picked “Supreme Court and the Constitution.”  Excitedly, I went to my first class.  Not knowing anyone and trying to overcome my shy tendencies, I struck up a conversation with a girl from my building.  We exchanged the typical getting to know yous(Editor's Note: by which she means she was transfixed by my appearance and couldn't stop staring).

            “San Diego State” I responded when asked for my home university.  A voice came from over my left shoulder, at the table just over and behind mine.  “San Diego State?  Me Too!”  He said.  I looked at him politely and smiled. “Oh cool,”  I replied, and returned abruptly to my conversation so as not to be rude to my new friend. (Editor's Note: by which she implies it was cool to be rude to potential lover-boy...point being - I was shot down). 

            Attempt 2

            In a group seminar, he caught me again.  Trying to make conversation, he asked when my project was due, and when I replied it wasn’t due for a while, he said he thought mine was due sooner.  This attempt at flirtation went completely over my head, as I rushed to take out my calendar to check as panic sprang up in my voice.  Moment lost. (Editor's Note: Wow, I got game.) 

            Walking away my roommate said, “Ash, he’s hot and he’s flirting with you.”  I quickly disagreed, “No I don’t think so….wait really??” (Editor's Note: About the flirting she means...right?!?!?!)

            Attempt 3

            The next week I was a little more aware and pretending not to be looking forward to seeing him.  We went to look for our graded papers from the previous week at the same time.  He told me he had seen mine, but it was nowhere to be found when I scoured through the table.  Butterflies in my stomach I said something to challenge him a bit, to which he responded, “Hey, I’m trying here.”  And in a brazen moment I’m still impressed by, I quipped, “Try harder!!,”  with a smile. (Editor's Note: This was actually kinda fuckin humilaiting. Tons of people overheard it and laughed as I thought I was such the player that it kinda shook me up for about .4 seconds)

            Despite my prior aloofness, this must have piqued his interest.  The next week was his birthday. His 21 st. When I came to seminar, he was flanked by his admiring followers, mainly female of course, and he invited me to grab a drink after.  I replied I couldn’t, but I’d take him for a drink after class later. (Editor's Note: What a slut).  “Okay” he said, clearly swearing me off and returning to his minions. 

            But I came through.  The rest, as they say, is history. :)

            That night before class, I reconnected with a high school friend who was coincidentally going out for her friend’s birthday a block away from the campus.  After class I took him by surprise when I made good on my offer.  At the nearest watering hole, we went straight to the bar.  As the older woman (by 6 weeks), I felt it my duty to get him good and drunk in honor of his 21^st year.  A few drinks in, he realized I was letting him greatly outpace me and he swiftly alerted the bar tender to change that. (Editor's Note: They were out of roofies so I just wanted something comparable). 

           

Sparks were flying everywhere.  I don’t really remember the other people there, just us two.  Talking and joking like old friends, laughing and exchanging flirtatious glances, dancing and time flying by.  The chemistry was undeniable.

Parting ways he gave me his phone number and told me to check out his column in our school newspaper, the Daily Aztec.  The whole metro ride home, my stomach was in my throat.  I couldn’t stop smiling as suited DC workers passed me by.  I felt like I was in my own little world, a new exciting world with this very intriguing guy. (Editor's Note: Interesting here how she didn't specify what time of day that metro ride home was ;)). 

Part II coming...

Posts Coming

Soon as I have a free night. Spent about 6 hours total thus far painting the walls (hello/goodbye weekend). We applied two coats and I gotta say, I'm quite pleased with the color. It's called FIRECRAKER!!! Is it a perfect job? Well, f@#$ no. We're amateurs. And it shows. But at the same time, I'm so appreciative of the process (as in life) and the fact that we took the time to work together is a memory I'll cherish forever. I was so exhausted Saturday night that by 10:30 I passed out in our huge closet petting the dog (the dog came ambling out - he was in there so as not to step in the paint  - and let the girl know that there was a dead Papa lying next to the laundry basket). And let her do the final touch-ups....And then we decided to extend the project to the adjacent walls to 'fill it out'. Definitely a solid choice, but a TON of more work prepping and tedious painting. Now we STILL have to paint the bedroom (next weekend). But that wall is smaller and now we have the benefit of EXPERIENCE. By which I mean Hiring Mexicans. Cough, what? Oh. I thought I just wrote something I didn't mean. :).

Today we went to IKEA (AGAIN!!) and picked up the entertainment center (and like 10 other household accessories). Gotta assemble that soon. We're also STILL agonizing over the couch we both like. It's expensive, but high quality and has a great pullout sofa (tempurpedic) to host friends. I'm rigidly against it as they refuse to 'haggle' or negotiate like rationale sales people. They say price is firm. I say sayonara. I've now walked out of that store a grand total of four times examining the same couch. Oy. We'll likely bite the bullet eventually, but I'm holding out for a sale or at least some breathe of fresh air in their sales approach. Dammit. I have two real nice pieces already and the third will make it a bit cramped for our current pad, but perfect in the long run. We also commisioned an artist for Warhol-ish portraits of Leroy to hang on the wall. May look into another bookcase too as I still LOVE my reading.

In other news, had one of the best bike rides of my life on Saturday. The weather was nothing short of spectacular. Warm and no-wind. Time to time trial. I was giddy getting out onto MacArthur. Got in about 30. And for fun added another 5 slow just to enjoy the day. So many riders out. So many dreams to crush. :). Was fun flying by people. Sometimes you just feel it (granted sometimes you absolutely don't). And Saturday I called myself Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcrusher. In fact, I made the girl call me that for the rest of the night (while painting and listening to John Legend). Was so nice that the girl joined me for another leisurely ride later in the day (15 miles for a total of 50 for the day WHEW a lot for me!). She did great and is enjoying her new bike fit. Although she hates hills. Despises them. She lets me know whenever we go over one :).

Happy Easter to everyone who made it this far! Got in a slow 12 miler this morning in preparation for next week's Cherry Blossom 10-miler. I initially hoped to go around 63 minutes. But we'll see. The final 3 miles will be revealing. That's fa sho. Then it's back home to custom-build some of the frames we got for my Asian artwork and paint the bedroom and hang the chalkboard, and stack the bookshelves, and.....the projects never end. And that's what makes life exciting at the moment.

Keep posted.

I'm Engaged

Suppose I've kept you waiting long enough...

The big news during the epic adventure to Spain was that I am now officially a fiance. I find it odd that there's no male/female signifier for the term (i.e. husband/wife, boyfriend/girlfriend, etc.). Indeed I am becoming an adult slowly but surely. The past year I have matured immensely and have even begun to take my 'career' more seriously which is VERY unlike me. I am free-spirited and have ascetic tendencies in the past. Despite that, I have decided I needed to challenge my comfortable ways, as temporary and volatile as they used to be. I moved to Washington 4.5 years ago now. I arrived with two small suitcases and a backpack. With a place to stay for only 2 days and no other friends/contacts to rely upon.

Now, Washington is home. I acquired bikes, couches, a queen bed, bedroom furniture, a RECLINER!!!, a huge HD TV, a car, etc. AKA, moving now takes longer than approximately 15 minutes...(not great if the feds are on my tail as I always suspect they are).

Nevertheless I'm super excited to start this new chapter of my life. And more importantly, to share it with someone I love deeply. I am quite the domestique these days. My weekends consist of frequenting many furniture stores, IKEA, Loews/Home Depot, and taking in-home measurements.

As for the fiance and the wedding...more details to come. Hopefully she can write a guest post and introduce us and our story. Many of you close readers already know her well...for those of you who don't I am confident you will find her lovely too. Or you will pretend to ;).

Until then, the proposal took place on the top of the rock at Gibraltar. The southern most tip of Spain overlooking two continents, Africa and Europe. Gibraltar is technically the U.K. Although over our lifetimes, the jurisdiction may swap hands. We shall see. Here is an email 'the girl' sent out to close family and friends....developing.

Hello my loved ones!

I just returned from Spain last night, and a big event happened while I was there :)  After going to talk to Mom and Dad before we left, Conor got ready to propose without me knowing anything about it. 

We woke up at the crack of dawn on Wednesday morning to board a bus down to the Rock of Gibraltar.  We decided to hike, even though everyone we told that responded with, "You hike?  No, just take the tram.  Wait you really are going to hike it?  Hmmm..."  Turns out, the rock is a fair bit taller than the Eiffel tower and the Empire State building.  No worries, Off we went!

After about an hour, we reached the top.  Conor took a picture of me against the gorgeous background of blue sky and clear water.  Apparently, he was taking one last picture of me as a single lady ;)

He went over to a couple to ask them to take our picture, and quickly told them what he was about to do.  Next thing I knew, he was down on one knee, s

aying the sweetest and most romantic things, and asking me to marry him.  I said yes, of course, and he put the ring on to make it official!

I'll post more pictures of the trip online, but here are some of the best ones.   Sorry they're not cropped, I don't have the right computer program.  Mom, you're welcome to help ;)

I love you all!

ESPANA!!

I. Am. Exhausted. It's been an incredible journey. With much to write about and reveal. Big, big news, but I have a midterm due tomorrow and I just got back last night and have a million and one things on my plate so until then...hear are a few Garmin connect files of my running during the trip. Only got 3 in for the week, but they were quality. And then my foot locked up in painful agony like before. And the night spent in Geneva was incredibly painful. I could barely put pressure on my foot. Excruciating. And I'm not just being a baby. Today it's a bit better. Hope to run tomorrow but I gotta figure out why my foot keeps locking up like this...

This first one was one of the best-feeling runs of my life. The clock didn't count mileage until 5 minutes in, so the pace is actually quite a bit faster. I felt completely fine until about 7 miles in where I started to feel the pain. But really, one of the most enjoyable runs of my life. Wish the satellites woulda captured the mileage accurately.

Tri To Help Recap

 Not. Aero. Or. Fast. 

 Shut your yapper. And let us go already. :). 

 Me, anxious....na. 

 You're kidding right. I'm like waaaaay faster than this. OMG guys, really. 

 Ok, now time to turn the jets on. 

 Green for good luck. 

 Making that treadmill my bitch. 

 Throw in a little backstroke never hurt anyone. 

 Straight up flying ladies and gents :). 

 Conor's version of a flip turn. Ha. Wow. 

 With a 10 minute transition you got times to flaunt the guns. 

 Checking out dudes spedometer. Soooooo pissed. 

 Anger face. 

Ya, just be done already bike. How I hate thee. 

I've basked in my glory for long enough and now it's time to provide a recap of the days festivities.

Swim: 10 minutes (27 laps)
Surprising to me, the swim was a 25 meter pool. Usually, your run-of-the-mill gyms have super short pools (like 20 yards or so). This was a pleasant surprise and I got in the water 10 minutes early for some breastroke, backstroke and about 150 freestyle just to get warmed up. Every other racer in my wave looked at me like I was loco for expending MORE energy, but I warm up for other races...why not this one? There were about 10 other folks in my wave, half guys, half chicks.

When the gun went off, I just cruised. Even in a short 10 minute swim, it makes no sense to start off sprinting. I split the lane with a bulky black dude who bolted out the gates. At the first turn (25 meters) I was even with about 4 others. I'm no collegiate swimmer, but I knew I'd be better than most everyone at this type of event in the swim. Sooooo, I kinda chuckled as by the 37.5 meter mark some of those same folks had clinged onto the wall of that first turn to catch their breaths. Maybe warming up woulda helped!!!

I kept a consistent pace, not paying much attention to who was trying to catch me. After about 6 laps, it got impossible to tell who was being lapped anyhow. I haven't been swimming much at all, so I got a bit fatigued about 7 minutes in. I picked up the pace, knowing I had to be close to finishing. I got about 2/3 of the way to the 28th lap when the dude called 'Time!'. So that final lap didn't count. I think my pace was around 1:26/100m for anyone who gives a shit. Job done.

10 minute transition to bike.

Bike: 30 minutes

Now, in theory, 10 minutes is a shload of time to waddle my fat ass to the spin machine. In theory. But because I had so much extra time, I decided to change out for each sport. I brought bike shorts and a t-shirt and running shorts and another t-shirt for the run. I know that 30 minute spin for me can produce approximately 16 buckets of sweat and I was not about to run 20 minutes with that thing sloshing all over the machine and innocent bystanders. Not cool.

So, yeah, I changed and got my cycling shoes on (to make myself look even more pretentious). By the time I got up to the spin, I realized just how crappy the spin bikes were that they were using. Really, really shitty. It took me 3 minutes just to adjust the bike to make it rideable and then the dude says "1 Minute!" So I hop on and my cleat doesn't snap down fully. It's not completely popping out but I can't pull up that hard either. Oh well. I thought about changing into my running shoes and just using the baskets, but I just sucked it up and hoped for the best.

And my best was shit. It's strange because I have so much confidence in my cycling lately. My legs have never been stronger. I have new muscle mass I never had before. Some days riding I feel super powerful and my speeds are pretty high. I tried to find a sweet spot of where the fastest speed was for the computer, but it seemed to be at about 115 rpm's. That's extremely quick. Anything lower and the speed dropped precipitously. So while I'm drenched in sweat and my preceived effort is really high, my speed was stagnant around 18 mph. 18 mph is a joke for me. I can hold 7mph faster than that for half hour. Granted, it doesn't translate always from road to indoor, but this thing had to have been WAAAY off. I glanced at the dude next to me who wasn't sweating and was also holding 18mph. So I was pissed. With 10 minutes to go I stopped pushing hard. The difference between hard effort and decent effort was only 1 mph, so I just backed off. With 2 minutes to go I got so disappointed that I just soft-pedaled lol. Don't know why I got so discouraged but I remember (at the time) blaming it on the calibration. IT CAN'T BE ME! WHY THAT'S PREPOSTEROUS!!!!

So ya, bike over. Thank god. Time to change. Again.

5 Minute Transition Bike to Run.

Run: 20 Minutes

I had plenty of time to change and get a fresh pair of clothes on. Felt really nice. My heart rate dropped tremendously during those 5 minutes and I also had that 2 minute easy pedaling to get me under control too. Time to hit my home away from home...the treadmill :).

I'm used to running on the treadmill. I do MANY of my runs on the treadmill. They made all of us set the incline for 1% (surprising) but I've been training at that anyhow this year so it was no skin off my back. As soon as it began (took 30 seconds to get up to speed) I knew I'd have a solid run. I've been running more than ever, and I fell into a breathing pattern early on.

I kept the speed near 10.0 mph and increased it a bit in the second half. I was still a bit frustrated from the bike so I was yelling things to motivate myself. It was a bit dramatic. But the new wave was biking in front of us so I was trying to motivate them too. 3.35 miles later I was exhausted. I ran about as well as I could have hoped. Let's hope that transfers to outside....

Starting The Season Off Right

Saturday was triathlon #1 of the 2013 season. Not that it was uber-competitive. Okay, make that non-competitive. But a win is a win.

Which means I won. And while I won't bask in this glory for more than a second....I did have a blast and it supported a good cause. And it's nice to know I finally won a triathlon!

I drove up to Baltimore for the tritohelp.org

It's an indoor triathlon that benefits epilepsy research. So, that's another reason why I was willing to participate. Triathlon is a pretty selfish venture, so it's nice to either do it with others or have the proceeds go to a good cause.

I will write up a race report shortly and I actually have some pretty good pics to post too. So keep posted. If all goes as planned you can see my godawful swim form in action too in a 30 second video clip. Be warned...it's ugly.

Bike Ride

As I mentioned last week, I've been cycling about the same amount as last season (approx. 100-120 miles a week). I am also lifting weights (although less frequently and heavier) but only for about an hour to 1.5 per week. Nevertheless, my legs have never been stronger. With another year under my belt and challenging threshold rides, I am riding much faster. Well, I also am riding a tri-bike for the first time. Definitely a shift in technique/shifting and my WRIST IS KILLING ME!! Is this common? Does anyone have any knowledge on how to prevent this??? It's been throbbing from shifting in aero position (it's extremely difficult to shift). Kind of an odd problem to have but it's also quite troubling as I think it will prevent me from swimming. It also prevents me from shifting cuz it's so painful. Hoping to find some insight on this...

Anyway, here's my latest ride yesterday from Garmin Connect: Granted I am riding on my race wheels, so speed is a bit inflated (although that's what I'll be racing in this season). I still have much work to do, but riding on flats I feel comfortable near 24mph right now. That depends on wind and such, but when I examine the flat sections as I'm riding I often see speeds in the 25 mph range. Let's hope that's accurate and my bike can become a HUGE asset for me this season..

Training

Despite quite a few nascent ailments, none of which seem overly severe, training is going relatively well. I was bored a few nights ago and decided to look back at what I was doing a year ago in preparation for last season. I was definitely training hard. Perhaps too hard. Certainly more than I am now, although part of that has to do with slashing weight training down to a minimum. Each day was a fairly intense workout, sometimes combining a 10k threshold run with a long (3000y) swim afterward. Shit, I'd even lift weights for a bit beforehand.

Now, I'm hoping to get by on less. At that point I figured I was at such a disadvantage from my peers who had been in the sport for years, that I had to train extremely hard to compensate. I didn't have the years of endurance or strength that they had.

But now, with another year of training under my belt, I feel a bit more comfortable not pushing as hard and dialing in my workouts based on feel and not, "Well, today I could do 800m repeats followed by a 40k time trial...cuz that seems like a decent workout."

It's premature to tell if my 'less is more' theory will produce positive results, but if nothing else I do have a couple years now of racing/training under my belt to fall back on. That's nothing to shrug off. It brings confidence. And experience. And mental toughness.

Since I have no coach and no training plan, I would be lying to say I'm not still a bit uh...cautious, or tentative about my lack of structure. Each day I take as it comes. If I feel refreshed and light, I typically do a hard workout. If I'm feeling sluggish and slow, I may do an LSD run or or a long spin. I admit it's a very odd way to train. In a sense, it's no different than I was last year. But in a sense, it is different b/c I don't have the looming pressure of "I HAVE TO get in that speed session today." I was pushing myself regardless of how I felt last year (while still approaching workouts day by day).

I'm just not an organized person, I prefer to take things as they come and go on feel. Type A individuals would not function well with this approach.

As I said, the verdict is still out. The past two years I did nothing but improve. And the gains weren't dramatic. Each race I got a little faster. I probably shaved 5-6 minutes off my times from 2011-2012.

My expectations are tapered a bit this year, but not significantly. My ambitious goal last year was to break 2:10 in an Olympic Distance Triathlon. I missed it by about 30 seconds, but I was knocking on the door a few times.

This year, I'd like to go 2:07:XX. Which would give me about a 3+ minute improvement from last season. The incremental approach is healthier I believe, and hopefully less conducive to injuries. Most theories say you're not supposed to go harder than 10% from one week to the next anyway. I still have no desire to do anything longer than an Olympic distance triathlon. I also don't have an aching desire to qualify as elite. If I talk to Andy or others about what it's like to be sponsored and part of a team maybe I will change my mind. But the pressures that come with that, the brand obligations, the mandatory training and participation events, placing, don't really suit me. I enjoy the loner aspect of triathlon. I kinda like coming into a race as an unknown and surprising people. I also am extremely self-motivated and generally train harder solo than in groups (although I'm sure a HUGE benefit to elite/sponsorship is training with the best - which I haven't had access to).

There are many great advantages to being a part of a sponsored-team of that I am sure. But I suppose I'd have to research more on whether or not it's for me. (Under the BIG assumption that I'd be good enough based on results this year to qualify). But I'm confident, and barring any significant setbacks I'm getting better and better.

I think I'll surprise a lot people this year again with my cycling. In a sense, I'm cycling less (near 100 miles or less a week), but cycling harder. Also, the gearing on my tri bike is tough and that provides me a tremendous edge on guys with normal gears. The mileage is near the same as last year, but the intensity is a bit higher. I haven't been doing my VO2 max intervals (which is likely a mistake), but I think I'm better off doing short (15-30 min) thresholds anyway for TT riding. Again, we'll have to wait and see and once it warms the Garmin should let me know if that is indeed the case.

I'm running slightly more this season. With less intensity, but with more frequency. On a really great week I can do close to 40 miles. On average I'm getting in between 30-40 miles per week.

Swimming is the one sport I've neglected a bit. I think I wasted too much time in the pool last year. I'm not a bad swimmer, but the gains in swimming are small unless you invest HOURS. I'd be better served going a little faster on the bike or riding a bit more aggressively position-wise. Like I've said a million times, the verdict is still out, but I'm confident with this approach. 6-8k max per week here.

Finally weight training has been 'sequestered' too. Only one lift per week for upper body. Well three, really. One day I do shoulders/chest, one day bi's and tri's, one day back. I try to get in 2 challenging leg lifts each week too. This remains the hidden secret for power on the bike in my opinion. For there are many people who cycle twice as much as I do, but I think I can stay with them based on wattage output.

So I suppose that's what's been going on in the training front. Finally bought some new running shoes, so let's see if that alleviates the foot pain that's been hurting me. Hope to ride on Sunday my favorite route on MacArthur if it's warm enough. If not, maybe an indoor spin. You know me...I'll take it as it comes.