Training Week: Oct. 7-13

Obviously, this week sort of blew. But, I was disorganized and emotionally worn out even before the kitten terrible-ness began. There are some reasons, but they are boring, so who cares. For the most part, I got the training done when I could as best I could. The real question is going to be: what happens this week now?


Was supposed to go into the KQED office, but worked from home because the kittens were fighting and it was a whole thing. Managed to run 2.5 miles easy and do drills. Woohoo.


Biked 15 miles to the ferry, to the KQED office, back to the ferry, etc. IN THE DARK.


Ran mile repeats. 4 x mile (6:10, 6:11, 6:14, 6:15) with warm-up and cool-down about 8.5 miles total. 20′ or so of core work, which was half playing with the kittens and trying to stop them from fighting.


Swam 3,150y with Masters in the morning. It was not my best ever. Pretty much my entire lane lapped me, though since I almost always get lapped at drills there’s also the possibility that other people do not do the drills honestly. Main set was 3 x [200 pull neg. split, w/ last 50 as swim, 2 x 100 IM/reverse IM, 2 x 50 all out]. I hated it.

TRX class in the evening. Except really I missed like 1/3 of the class because traffic has been crazy, am I right?


Biked 32 miles or something. Not even entirely sure how far or how much this counts as a workout, since I rode about half of it on trails on my road bike, which meant I mostly was just sort of dicking around.


Biked 17 Mile Drive with Steve, but he rode my mountain bike and I rode my road bike. It comes out about even that way.

Ran 3.5 miles easy and did drills/strides.

Weddinged it up.


Ran 15 miles on trails — a longer version of my favorite trail run. Actually, I’m not even sure how long it is, because my Garmin stopped downloading months ago and I haven’t had time to get it fixed and I sort of don’t care. It was 2:10. It was a good pace. I felt terrible, but never more terrible than I did the first 5′. And, I picked up the pace at the end. What does it matter how far it was.

TOTAL: 11:10

Dying Kittens, Biking by Myself and Hearing Alarms

McInnis. Sort of.
McInnis. Sort of.

Friday afternoon this is where I rode my road bike (not mountain bike) — this + the Shoreline Trail, which is much more challenging and rutted and rocky and hilly. I get bored of riding my road bike on long rides by myself. Sometimes I love it. But, sometimes I just can’t spend any more time in my own head (not a good sign with 8 more month of training…). So, instead, Friday I took my road bike and hit the trails. This isn’t aerobically challenging, but it’s technically hard, because your road bike simply isn’t designed for the trails. You have to focus to not fall over or get a flat or accidentally stick your skinny tire in a rut. And, the whole thing shakes your body constantly, every bump, shattering your boredom.

This is actually about three miles from our condo. You just ride past the mall, under the freeway and beyond the water treatment plant. And, then you keep going until you’ve gone far past all the recreational bird-watchers. The trail goes all the way out into the middle of the marsh that covers the blurry line between land and the Bay. You go until suddenly you’re standing on top of a marsh, surrounded by nothing, all by yourself.

I didn’t ride as far or as long as I wanted. I could say it’s because I had to take Biggie to the vet, but I was just bored. I just didn’t want to.

I did take Biggie to the vet, though. And, they said the problem wasn’t just stress from Tupac or the new situation. They said he has the same 100% fatal illness Floyd had (F.I.P) and he’s going to die just like Floyd did. Yes, it’s an extremely rare disease. Yes, it’s weird they both got the same mutation. Yes, it sucks.

I want to have a better way to say that. I want to make it mean something and have a point or a lesson. Isn’t that what writers are supposed to do? Take our own small pains and make them bigger, make them matter to other people, make them something. Instead, I cleaned. I cleaned the whole house Friday night. Because the only thing that’d be worse than having two cats die would be having the third one get sick too from a kitten that we only got to keep him company. If this was literature, there’d be a word for that.

We had to leave for a wedding Friday, after I finished cleaning. What do you do with a dying kitten when you’re leaving? One who has an infectious disease? We brought him with us. He’s not moving much, so it wasn’t hard. He just slept on the bed, walked around the room a little, enjoyed Carmel. And, we went to a wedding. We danced and partied and drank and then came back to the room and sat with the sick kitten. Then, we took him to the beach.

I tried to take a video of him running with Steve across the sand, but I accidentally took a video of what I thought I wasn’t taking a video of and didn’t record what I thought I was recording. Of course.

When we got home I went for my two hour run, barely beating the sun setting. It was ok, in that I never felt worse than I already felt. But, near the beginning, as I ran through a neighborhood and into the woods, an alarm inside one of the houses was going off. And, for ten second I wondered if it was my alarm, if I was asleep and I’d just been dreaming all this. I didn’t feel very awake; it seemed possible. I actually did a whole body check, tried to feel my pillow under my head if I was really in bed dreaming. But, I wasn’t. This was all real and that wasn’t what my alarm sounds like anyway.

Fun at the beach.
Fun at the beach.

Meet Biggie the Cat

Instead of working out today, which I probably wasn’t going to do anyway after yesterday’s wreck of a race, or doing any work, I got Tupac a new kitten friend from the Pet Fair.

Biggie the Cat is not very big.
Biggie the Cat is also very hard to photograph.

Biggie the Cat (yes, grandma it’s a hip-hop thing) is three months old and very cute and playful. I thought they’d get along. Apparently I did not think about this at all.

I’ve basically created a turf fight. Tupac is not happy about some other guy in his room, which is where we had to put him because we don’t have very many rooms with doors, and is making sure we all know that. Biggie seems unfazed, but has to stay in his room because he is small and I don’t want Tupac to kill him.

It’s made for a stressful day. And not a particularly restful rest day.

Tupac is pissed with me.

A Few Random Things That Weren’t Individually Worth Their Own Post

  • It turns out Tupac the Cat is a boy, not a girl. Obviously, this has changed everything and he is very confused.
  • I started training at KQED this morning for an on-call job. This is very exciting, fyi. But, I do not know how people workout and make it to offices by hours like 8 a.m. I especially don’t know how they do this if they went to a comedy show last night and Dana Carvey made a surprise appearance and it went super late. I got about six hours of sleep and didn’t do anything this morning except get up, shower, and get in the car.
  • At that comedy show, the woman taking tickets recognized me from hosting the local weekly news show, Seriously Now, on public access. I’m pretty much a celebrity.
  • My sister is visiting through Saturday. We’re trying to come up with super awesome exciting things to do tomorrow.
  • Yesterday, before Maggie got here, I did a track workout at the high school by my house — which, incidentally, is not the high school I coach at, it’s our rivals — and there was a PE class going on. Since it’s the last days of school, they were just goofing off and the teacher didn’t mind that I was running in the middle of their class. So, I talked to him a bit and then he started giving one of the kids a hard time, saying ‘When I was your age, I could run a 10-flat 100m. Can you do that?’ And the kid said, ‘Yeah, yeah, I could totally do that if I wanted to.’ Which, obviously, he couldn’t, because you know 10″ is quite fast for 100m. But, the teacher challenged him to do it then instead of just being all talk. So, we all watched the two kids, who were convinced they were super awesome, make it about 50m before completely losing steam. Ah well.

Why Three Day Weekends Are Less Restful Than Normal Ones

Saturday morning, I got up around 7 a.m. for the 8:30 race (yay low-key trail racing 7′ from your house), which isn’t really very early at all — except for the whole bachelorette party the night before thing.

Sunday, I got up at 5:15 a.m. to drive to Steve’s race at Mt. Hamilton and then drive to the feed zone of Steve’s race, which actually took longer than it did to drive from our house to the start. Then, Sunday afternoon, we got Tupac the Cat.

Monday, I woke up at 6:15 a.m. to go stand around at the Marin Memorial Day 10K and direct traffic. No one got hit by a car, so I’m pretty sure that was a success. By the time I got home at 10:30 a.m. I was exhausted. I laid on the couch for the rest of the day and played with the cat, which mostly involved trying to find her after she crawled under something and watching her chase her own tail.

I am incredibly tired and possibly in need of a weekend.

Here are gratuitous pictures of Tupac:

She likes to cling to you with her super sharp little claws.
She likes to cling to you with her super sharp little claws.
Sitting inside our shoes is  super awesome apparently.
Sitting inside our shoes is super awesome apparently.


What Happens When You’re Not Training and Have Nothing To Do

I may not have mentioned it, because, well, we’re actually separate people with separate lives, but Steve has been gone the past few days for a stage race in New Mexico. I did not go because 1. watching stage races make me so tired I end up having to sleep more than Steve, 2. it’s New Mexico, and 3. I got shit to do.

Except, apparently, I do not have shit to do.

With my self-imposed hiatus while I re-group, have a minor breakdown, and figure out if I should train or race or race myself into shape or become one of those people who just exercises for fitness or give up completely, I actually did so little the last few days that my ass was sore from sitting. That is insane. I sit for work and type on a computer multiple hours a day and, yet, somehow I managed to sit so much this weekend I hurt my butt.

Meanwhile, Steve was evidently doing this with his homestay this weekend: (though, apparently, the whole traveling a bunch for work and then this race and probably the interactions with farm animals means he’s not feeling 100% now)

I think Steve's thinking about bringing the little guy home with him.
I think Steve’s thinking about bringing the little guy home with him.

While he was gone, I wrote. I did laundry. I thought about tackling big house projects. I tried to write some more. I finished three short articles and one longer article today. I cleaned and vacuumed out the car. I watched multiple movies, all of The Newsroom’s first season, tons of things on my DVR, read two books and some other stuff, and I dunno spent a lot of time sitting on the couch doing nothing.

Is this what people do if they’re not working out? What does everyone do to fill their free time? 

I’m all about taking some time to do nothing, but I may be at my max. If I was waiting to hit bottom so I would feel motivated to get moving again, I think it might be coming?

In the meantime, I am now obsessed with this website, Cats Are Assholes. And, I think I watched this video three times (even though Floyd actually loved to go for walks and was the best cat ever):

What do you do when you’re not training?