This week’s training log is not super excited, since it’s basically just me repeating ‘I’m tired’ over and over.
Bike home from ferry. Plan on doing more, am tired, don’t. 45′ of riding
I felt Shitty, capital S, and stayed home from work, slept, moaned, etc. I tried to go for a run in the afternoon. I ran an hour, but it got disgustingly slower as I went until I was running 9:00/mile pace.
Did light core when I got home, which really was just laying on my floor. But, if you lay on the floor for 40′ and do a sit-up every now and then, that totally counts as 20′ of core. Then, swam for 10′ – which isn’t like a metaphorical or approximate “ten minutes,” it was really just 10′.
Rode the TT bike. Oh shit. To and from work + around China Camp on my way home, around 25 miles total for the day.
4.5 miles easy run in the hills in the evening. Did not feel terrible.
Bike to ferry. Plan on doing more, am tired, don’t.
Actually, I got drinks (and free ribs) with Maggie at Smuggler’s Cove, had a guy break the window of the Muni bus on the way there with his fist, and then sprinted to the ferry after. FYI, coming out of a dark, unmarked bar when it’s still light out and you’ve had three drinks and running full speed in ballet flats through Civic Center Plaza is enough to get the homeless people living in the plaza to cheer you on. In case you were wondering.
Swim 2,200y. It is the worse 2,200y I have swum in years. Did at least a few 100s that weren’t even under 1:30. My arms are so sore and painful within a few minutes of starting that I’m convinced I somehow did push-ups in my sleep the night before.
Plan on doing more in the evening, don’t. Drink instead. Theme?
Run 9 hilly miles easy. I am then crippled by fatigue — despite my tried and true method of eating an ice cream sandwich after my run. I abandon all other plans for the day and lay on the couch and nap. It seems like doing the Tiburon Triathlon on Sunday would be a bad idea. If it’s suppose to be a fun start back into racing and it sounds the opposite of fun, then why do it. I decide to DNS, go watch the San Rafael Crit bike race in the evening, and drink beers from plastic cups so as to not get in trouble for drinking in public. Flawless technique.
(And, yes, I am aware I change tenses when telling stories. Let it go.)