1600 = 1

...as in 1600 meters swam = 1 mile....


I did 1 mile in the pool!

My arms are exhausted.

It was crazy kid night at the pool yesterday, I swear! Swim lessons, swim team practice & stupid boys who couldn't keep their basketball out of my lane. Next time I'm just going to chuck it at one of their heads. I might get kicked out of the pool, but at least I'll feel better.

The goal for the swim was 800m (4 x 200m), keeping a steady pace, and keeping good form - all while dodging basketballs. Oooooh, obstacle course! Fun!Overall the first 800 felt pretty good and I really started to find a rhythm towards the end, which was nice.

…pull, roll, breathe…pull, roll, breathe…..repeat as needed.

Even though I wasn’t shooting for a specific time, I still managed a 2:01/100yd pace, which is pretty much right where I want to be. After the first 80om, I still wasn’t all that satisfied with my form, so I took a little break & got ready to go again.

By this time the basketball game had finished, thank goodness, and a father/daughter duo had moved in next door. Now, usually when I swim, I try to ignore what is going on around me, but these two were pretty entertaining. He was trying to teach her to swim, and she wanted no part of it. For every 50 that she swam, I did 100, so I got to hear the conversations whenever she was done with a lap. They got to be pretty entertaining.

Dad: “One more freestyle lap with good form and without stopping and you can be finished.”
Daughter: “Why can’t I be done nooowwwww??”

(yeah, she sounded like Veruca Salt to me too)

This was beginning to sound like the arguments I have in my head. Next lap:

Dad: “You didn’t finish that lap, you stopped halfway through, so now you have to do another one
Daughter: “I don’t want to. I want to be done.”

This is beginning to sound familiar….

Dad: “If you do one more good lap without stopping, you can be done and I’ll buy you a latte.”

Ah. There. NOW it’s the same argument I had with myself last weekend regarding getting up and running. Bribery – works everytime. She swam the lap and was done.

After I was done snorting chlorine because I was snickering to myself I continued on my merry way. I was in such a good mood that I finished up my last 400m without even thinking about it, and I’m pretty sure I had a negative split for the second 800m! Whohoo! Go Me!! I still felt strong at the end, so that’s encouraging.

On the downside, my arms are so fatigued today (the day after) that I could barely lift them to wash my hair this morning! Oh well!

Going Long

Here's a quote that pretty much sums up everything leading up to the ride:

"It takes far more effort to compose a rationale for not doing that it does to actually do. By the time you've sorted all of the reasons to stay in bed, invented just the right excuse that facilitates the injection of your perfectly prescribed justification, you'd be halfway out the door. Ironically, the easiest way around is through."

Let us take a step backwards to Saturday's long run. The run where 45 minutes = 5 miles (woohoo!). The run where Sara wasn't quite prepared for the first warm day, didn't have her fuel pack and as a result became seriously dehydrated.

I honestly wasn't sure if I was going to make it home. It's one mile from the bottom of our hill to our house at the top, and about halfway home I just wanted to sit down on the curb and give up. I couldn't think straight, I felt nauseous & had the chills. Apparently, this is what dehydration feels like. Peachy.

Lessons learned: I can hold an 8:30 pace for 5 miles; water is good; if you're dehydrated, DON'T go sit at a baseball game in the sun. Duh.
Result: hydration pack is on it's way courtesy of amazon.com & will be here in time for Thursday's long run. Yipee!

Sunday was supposed to be a 90 minute bike, but I still wasn't feeling well, and even though conditions were perfect for an early morning ride on Sunday, I talked myself out of it. "I still don't feel well from yesterday", "I'm too tired", " My legs hurt", "I'm a weenie." Whatever. I pretty much came up with every excuse known to man to try and justify to myself that it was okay to skip the ride.

It didn't quite work. As the day wore on and I started to feel better, I also started to get cranky. Downright bitchy at one point. This is my process. I talk myself out of it, get all mad at myself because I talked myself out of it, and then I finally go do it. (As a side note, this behavioral pattern really needs to change.)

Finally I decided to go, and it actually wasn't too bad. I did 22 miles in 90 minutes - both the longest & farthest I've ever gone. I rode out Dodson fighting a headwind (but keeping it above 15 mph) & when I got tired of that I hung a right on Road 9 & road all the way to Highway 283 - I just kind of crisscrossed my way around. It was fun! The only scary part was having to cross a main intersection with lots of traffic where there is no stoplight. I'm always afraid I'm going to fall over because I can't clip out in time!!

I have found that long bikes are a great time to think. I ended up doing alot of praying on this one, so that was a nice bonus!! I'll have to take my camera on the next one - the mountains were out yesterday & it was gorgeous!

Lessons learned: get over it and go train - you'll be fine once you get out there.
Goal for next time: need to work on building speed on the bike - I'm tired of being stuck at 15 mph.