Today, a guy at the pool asked me if I was training for something. I said, “Well, sort of. Yeah. It’s complicated.” Which is probably more descriptive of my attitude than my race schedule.
This week I felt like a pile of shit. At one point yesterday I was sitting on the couch watching TV and drinking a Bud Light Platinum (the official beer of Sunny Running) and my legs just started to hurt. They were throbbing with pain. For no obvious reason. That’s pretty much what this week has been like. So, instead of stressing about my training schedule, I decided this week was going to be more of a “listen to your body” week. My body, apparently, said: Don’t swim.
Planned rest day. My body said, Word.
2,500y at Masters. There should be some kind of warning when the workout’s going to be long endurance free, because I’m totally middle of the pack in my lane for most Masters workouts that are 50s and IMs and stop every minute to talk about it, but if it’s going to be multiple 400s of free then I suddenly get the equivalent of two lanes faster. Endurance is totally my specialty, even if endurance in this case is like 5′. I was killing this workout, even easily swam a 5:32 400y, and then abruptly my arms and legs reminded me they were wrecked from racing. My body said, Get out of the pool. So, I did.
22′ of running. It was painful. My broken-ish toe is not getting better.
Crossfit at SF Crossfit with Nate. Things were hurting.
Halfway through my bike ride, after I realized I had locked myself out and after I rode over to Steve’s parents and went through a whole ordeal of finding their spare key to get into the house to find my spare key, my body said, Do not do your hard run after this. So, I didn’t. Rode 55′ in total. Was exhausted.
My body said, Go back to sleep. So, I didn’t swim.
It was pouring rain when I got up, which made riding four hours sound incredibly unappealing. Also, it is September. I only deal with getting rained on while riding in December, January and possibly February. It’s too early for that shit on Sept. 21. Instead, I decided to do the run my body told me not to do on Thursday. By the time I got out of the house it had stopped raining, but, well, oh well.
Ran 9.25 miles with 20′ at marathon pace, which ended up being 7:13, 6:59, and then 6:57 for the last bit of a mile. It was windy and uphill one direction, which is partially why the first mile was slow, but the whole thing was also un-encouragingly hard. I even wanted to throw up just during my warm-up at 9:00/mile pace. It did not feel awesome. After the 20′ I felt pretty terrible and couldn’t decide if I should throw in another 20′ (which, just to be clear, would have been extra) or just throw up. I ended up deciding to run one mile hard. Why? I don’t know; my body said to. I did a 6:32 and called it a day. I then ran 9:10s back home.
I did 4′ of core. Literally. I did not swim.
Slept through meeting Jordan in the morning, which I guess I needed. So tired. Then, rode 56 miles in 3:50. I really thought this ride would be 4:15 (went out Wilson Hill, Chileno Valley, through Sonoma), so I can’t decide if I rode fast or if I’ve just forgotten how long different bike routes are. The ride went by in one of those blurs of long training, where you don’t really think about anything but just repeat nonsense sentences over and over in your head. The last 30′, though, that sentence was pretty much: “Almost done. Almost done. Almost done.”
This week is back to not listening to my body. So there.