the insanity continues

I know...I know I know I know. where the hell has she been and how come she never writes anymore?

I'm sure I could come up with a number of reasons as to why the blog has gathered dust, but I won't. I'll just pick up where I left off and pretend nothing has happened.

There was that Quad Weekend...

I had no trouble this year pulling a team together for the Quad. The same guys I had last year were easy to convince to do it again this year. I'm not sure how I got so lucky with my team. There's the Biker, who is good friends with the Skier, who is a good cycling buddy of mine, and the Runner, who happens to be my spouse, and me, the humble snowshoer. Usually spouse is not so interested in team things - but the Quad is a special kind of insanity. I'm not sure how I talk him into it every year, but it's not hard. The manliness factor is probably a big piece of it. He remembers how crazy-hard it is, and he's game. Also, I think he likes the rest of the team, because they're all good people.

This is the second year we've had the same Quad Team, which means that I'm dealing with seasoned pros, so to speak. All of us tend to train year-round for one or another thing. The only thing we needed to do was train for this thing, since skiing and snowshoeing are the only weather-sensitives sports, it's really down to the shoer and the skiier to be in reasonable form for our specialties. The Quad is just a fun weekend in the snow.

The Quad, this year, fell on Valentine's day. This year also, it fell on a weird weather weekend. It had to happen sometime, that the weather would be less than perfect. The last few years we've had glorious sunshine and fabulous perfectness.

This year it was cold and windy.

Seriously. Cold. And windy.

I know. I've been having trouble writing some seriously inspiring stuff here. We came, we saw, we quadded, the end. There are so many things I love about that race - the location, the people, the obscene difficulty of it.

This year it was also seriously hard, mentally. As in years past, I always forget just how frickin hard it is to make it to the bloody start of the snowshoe leg. It's not like other races where you can just take a taxi, or have someone drop you off at the start of your leg, no. We take a bus from the town of Grants to the start of the run/end of the bike (T1). From there, we get in a truck to go to the end of the run/start of the ski (T2). Each and every one of the relayers gets in a truck and gets hauled to T2. It's a big undertaking, getting racers onto the mountain - and it seems like the entire town of Grants volunteers for this race. Grants is not a big town, so it's pretty cool that they pull this off.

From T2, it's up to the snowshoers to haul their own butts up to the end of the ski/start of the shoe (T3). On our own.

For emphasis, I'll spell it out -- that's 2 mile snowshoe from T2 to T3 - before we get to race. Bleah. Every year I tell myself 'oh it's just 2 miles' and every year I am swearing, cursing, sweating and freezing my arse off hiking those two uphill miles before I even get to start the race. This year was no different than previous years - except for the wind. And the cold.

On the plus side, they did change the course slightly from last year - the uphill was the same 1 mile with 800 feet of elevation gain (and most of that gain feels like it's in the last 1/2 mile, topping out at over 11,000 ft). In previous years the downhill is the same as the uphill, but this year the downhill went down a more sheltered route, which meant the snow was less frozen, and more fluffier. For me, this meant I could descend a little more fearlessly.

cutting to the chase,
2008 Quad Shoe Up: 26:05, Shoe Down: 15:40
2009 Quad Shoe Up: 24:51, Shoe Down: 13:10

I think my improved time is down to more than just the changed course, and I'm very pleased about that.

As with last year, we came in first in our age group. We were trying hard to improve our overall team position, but it was not meant to be. A crack team of suspiciously fast sub-pro types came in first, and a team of males consisting of really fast guys (some of whom I know) came in 2nd. One of these yearsI just know that we'll break our position and move up the ranks...

But that was February! What the hell else have you been doing with yourself?

Well. Since the Quad I've
a) Signed up for Satan's Spin Class. Again. I came out of last year's hellfire 10 week course feeling pretty strong, and all indications so far are that Uncle Roy's magic is working again.

b) Signed up for Ironman St. George Ho. Lee. Shit. IMSG (or IMUT?) will be a second iron distance race within 6 months, since I'll be doing Beach to Battleship in November. It will also mean maintaining iron-style fitness through the winter (ulp). Given how strong I've felt recently, I feel good that I'll be able to pull off an iron distance race if I can train like this next year. I'm excited about that, and I'm also excited about shaking up my season next year. Getting an iron distance done early in the year will mean that I can do different things later in the year. On the downside, it will mean some hard, long miles in some cold parts of the year. Luckily, I live in a part of the country where this will be possible.

Having said that, we did get snow last week. And we usually get one more snow for Easter.

For posterity, I'll record that Mo and Spouse are responsible for talking me into that one. Mainly spouse. He sealed the deal by enthusing about making a family holiday in Utah, visiting the local beauty spots.

Mo and I helped each other fill out the registration forms. It's so good to have a partner in crime - I'd never have figured out what to say on some of that stuff.

c) completed the Napa Valley Trail Half Marathon. We'll refer to this race in the future as, 'the race in which spouse lied to me.'

I'll save that for the next post.

Ok, I'm caught up now...

on being crazy

I think my sanity has been called into question.

Again.

Many in the athlete (or pretendy-athlete, like me) community struggle to explain to our family, friends and (sometimes) spouses why we like to do what we do. Why do we spend upwards of 7 hrs a week training when most people might struggle with 3? Triathletes, in general, do way more than the required minimum of 30 minutes a day, so anything beyond that logically looks like a pointless waste of time. It looks like we're running away - from something, or some one. What would be the point, especially for those of us who aren't 'in the money'?

I've heard stories of family members who are outright hostile to their kin about their training. Family members will leap to accusations of the P.A. being obsessed, or neglectful, or crazy. As a side note, I have heard the "crazy" thing so many times it almost doesn't register anymore. My personal favourite criticism was, "you are sick," which was directed at me from a cyclist - and therefore more compliment than accusation.

I know -- 7 hrs a week. I picked that out of the air, and I know it's a low number - I figure that's roughly a recovery week for some of us - but other sources set this as an average standard for short distance racing, and I think it's a great goal for many. At the peak of Ironman training, with century ride and long run weekends, it can get up to 20 hours, but for average short-distance triathlon training, 7 hrs a week seems about right. That's an hour a day everyday.

I'll just come straight out and admit that yeah, triathlon training is an odd thing to want to do. It's not a well-accepted hobby, it does seem pretty fringey. Our circles are pretty small, though they seem bigger when you're in the water with 2500 other people on race day. Much has been discussed about the socioeconomic groups who choose to participate in triathlon. It's a pretty narrow focus. We all put our strait jackets on one arm at a time, just like everyone else.

I was faced with the same question and same crisis of conscience when someone else (also not a triathlete) a few years ago asked, why aspire to an Ironman? Why not use that time for something else, something bigger? Curing cancer, volunteering at a homeless shelter, spending more time with the kids, etc. etc. I agree, these are all noble and valid things. At the time I was more worried about the impact of loss on my children - could they handle mommy taking on what was effectively a part-time job for a few months?

These days, I am no longer defensive about the implication that what I choose to do with my time is somehow less valuable than something else, because I've mostly stopped judging what other people do with their time. Everybody is different about their 24 hours. I have happily and firmly arrived at the conviction that I love what I do, and as long as it's fun for me, I'll keep doing it. I support everyone else in pursuing what makes them happy, and this is what makes me happy.

I suppose it's also true that many an addict has said the same thing, when confronted with their addiction: I'm not hurting anybody, I can quit when I want to, you can't make me quit...that's another blog for another day.

Here is the bonus awesome: if mama is happy, everybody else is happy. No, my kids do not miss me. They support me. They run ice baths for me, they run aid stations with me. They nap with me.

Back to the examination of my sanity. I got prickly about the accusation briefly, then settled into my usual live and let live mode, but in the course of un-prickling myself, I came across this awesome article in Men's Fitness (of course) about the top 20 reasons to do triathlon.

This article says everything I wanted to say, and these are really awesome reasons to get into (and stay in) the sport. It's also accompanied by a photo of a guy with totally ripped er, everything, as some kind of demonstration of triathlete superpowers (Thank you, Men's Fitness for bringing it right down to the important stuff). I've summarized and added some commentary on how these reasons are true for me.

You will lose weight. Hmm...Now, I've lost a little bit of weight doing triathlon, but I've mostly moved it around. But I know plenty of people who have dropped weight by training. For many, this is a big motivator - and it's true.

You will look and feel years younger. Absolutely, unreservedly yes! I often accuse other triathletes of looking far younger than they are, and it's not unusual for me to be told I look much younger than my calendar years.

You will have more energy. Check! Even after incredibly long days with a swim and a two-a-day and a full day at work, and time with kidlets, I still don't feel as wiped out as I did before I started training. After a good sleep, I feel good. Frankly, I am not sure I'd be able to do what I do if I weren't training hard.

You will get more out of your workouts. I have goals in my workouts where I didn't before, so I suppose I'm getting the added bonus of achievement. Also, workouts leading up to a race take on more meaning because I know I'm not just marking time, I'm putting it in the bank.

You will injury-proof your body. Hmm...The article goes on to talk about the benefits of cross training and how that's better than single-sport training. I can't argue with that. However, I've been injured doing multi-sport, so I can't really say I'm injury-proof. Sorta check.

You will improve your health. Duh

You will live longer. Than what? How will I know I will live longer unless I do an experiment, with controls, in which I live twice: once with triathlon and once without? OK, controlled scientific experiments notwithstanding, I take the point that the benefits of exercise are many and scientifically, exercise is proven to extend life. Check.

You will be more productive. Definitely true. I do more, I get more done. See masthead.

You will learn to handle stress more effectively. Um, I think that is true actually. There is something about going for a run, or knowing that I will get the hell out from behind my desk and into another frame of mind later that does give me a sense of calm.

You will build rock--solid self confidence. "Rock-solid" - only in Men's Fitness. I'd say this is true for me - finishing a race does give me a personal boost that I have not found elsewhere. Also, I look awesome. I get a secret thrill out of finding new muscles in my legs. Those are mine, I earned them.

Your mood will improve. Now that you mention it, I am generally a happier person - I'm blaming the endorphins.

Your motivation to exercise will soar. I'm motivated, it's true. Also, there is no better cattleprod for training than signing up for a race.

You will learn to strengthen your weaknesses. Oh. Hell. Yes. I find my weaknesses, I work on them. Multisport has a way of exposing weaknesses in many areas.

You get to rub shoulders with the best athletes in the world. I'm a little surprised to say that this one is definitely true. I've made friends with world class athletes, and they are seriously down to earth people.

You will join the fitness elite. Um...I don't know about that. Seriously. Who put that in there? Did they just need 20, so they added this totally BS promise? Not buying it.

You will have an increased sense of purpose in your life. I suppose I do - I have a reason to get up early on weekends, I have a much more compelling sense of purpose when I hit the pillow at night, food takes on a different tone altogether when you treat it like fuel...Yeah, it's true. Check.

You will become the best that you can be. Personal achievement figures high in the sport, that's very true. Competing in something as base as this does bring out a part of me that really wants to do well everywhere in my life. It's a well known fact that the sport attracts a mindset of acheivement, and now I have to wonder, is it nature or nurture? Are triathletes overachievers, or are overachievers just attracted to triathlon? Discuss...

You will be a hero to your kids. That's a great idea - and I hope it's true. Right now, they just know that mommy and daddy spend time doing what makes them happy and practicing a whole lot. It's a part of their life. They don't miss us, they don't complain. We've never pushed them, and they like to race in their own races, they look forward to their own training.

You will motivate and inspire those around you. One of the ways I've eliminated the "You're crazy" is by recruiting other family members to join me. Little by little, I have my own group of people who dabble in crazy themselves. I have been known to tell just about anyone who will listen that whatever goal they set for themself is not out of reach, because if I can do it...

You will set other positive things in motion--things you never imagined.Really? Cool!

I note, with interest, that unlike many articles in Men's Fitness they don't talk about how triathlon will improve your sex life - directly - though it's implied in parts of the article. Donald did an article awhile back about sex and athletics which also makes the point that fitness improves your personal life in ways that many people don't talk about.

The other thing that nobody talks about is how once you're there, you're there. Once you've built a big base it's far easier to maintain than it is to totally start over. My crazy fun may seem ambitious, but when you're already there, it's just a big volume weekend, or small volume weekend. It's no big deal. It's an hour here, a couple hours there.

so - to that end, this year's race schedule will probably include:
Mt Taylor Quad - I'm doing the snowshoe leg again
Napa Valley Trail Half Marathon
Big Sur Marathon
Jemez Mountain half marathon followed with Santa Fe Century extra crazy weekend training (because it's awesome fun!!)
Iron Horse - this year it better not snow
Valles Caldera Half Marathon - I'm so psyched they added a half!!
Buffalo Springs 70.3 - Maybeperhaps
Vineman 70.3
La Luz, if the Gods choose to accept my lottery entry
Colorado Relay - because I said I would
and the big dance- Beach to Battleship 140.6.

I'd totally stick another 50K in there if I could - but it seems like that's enough for this year.

To the uninitiated, this would seem like a reasonably insane race schedule, but trust me when I say this one is on the light side. More reasonable than insane. Perspective.
Call me crazy...

other things I do for fun

off season is officially underway, and I am preparing for my first ultra.

I did my last triathlon at SoMa -- the race I didn't think I'd ever go back to -- at the end of October. Yes, I finished! Finally!

It was a last minute thing. I had this unreasonable need to do something with all this unused fitness. Does it go to waste if I don't race? Probably not. Still, I felt I needed to have one more good race this year. I dragged Flaming Mo with me, because she's a good sport like that. And my spouse came along as our sherpa.

Ok, I'll write a race report already!

I had this realization when I arrived that I'd been there twice already but never raced it, so I had a strong familiarity with every aspect of it. I was eerily comfortable with the place.

I had opted to do the Quarterman at SoMa. Ostensibly this is an Olympic distance race with a few weird modifications (short swim). I like to think of it as Ironman Arizona 0.25, since it's almost exactly a quarter of the IMAZ course. The setup for the Quarterman does not favor the old lady: they close transition at 6:15, but the old lady Quarterman wave doesn't leave until 7:45. Yes, that meant I got to hang out outside of transition for an hour and a half. In a wetsuit. I was surprisingly cold.

I was totally ready to get into the water, being cold and antsy and chilly, and was surprised to find that getting into water was warmer than standing around waiting to get into the water. Huh.

Then, the fustercluck began...The relatively short swim was just a single anti-clockwise loop in Tempe Town Lake. Now, I have heard many a horror story about being banged around in an open water swim: goggles lost, noses punched, eyeballs battered, kicks and punches. Iron Jenny told me once that she has a mantra in the swim that it's not on purpose, and I have always believed that myself. Maybe my swimming has improved to the point of being a true mid-packer, and that would explain why I felt crowded in the swim. Nonetheless, I found myself being swum into, being jostled, pushed, swum over. Having never swum with the male wave, I can't speak for that experience, but the old lady wave was very nice about every misplaced arm and leg. I'd get jostled and come up for air to find myself facing another surprised swimmer. "are you ok?" "Oh sure, I'm fine".

And on we went.

Maybe us old lady swimmers are just not out for blood. In spite of the crowd, the clusters, the brief panic about my life in peril, the swim was...long. I pulled a long 27 minutes for the 1000m swim, and even for my slow swim pace this is slow. Ah well.

Transition 1 was slow, like 5 minutes. Yes I was painting my nails. I was not in it for money, I was in it for fun -- at the end of the day it's all I've got!

The bike is a flat course. I mean flat. And normally quite fast. The main things to know about the SoMa course is the number of 180 degree turns (there are several), and that it's crowded. Spouse broke it down this way:

The course is an 18 mile twisty turny loop affair (1 and a bit loops for the quarterman, 3 loops for the half)

There were some 1900 athletes on the course

That's an average of over 100 athletes per mile. Complaints of obvious drafting taking place during the race are, well, understandable. It was hard for me to not be in a group at any given time! On the plus side, I totally hauled and passed a gazillion people. On the minus, I got passed by a lot of fast people doing the half. Sigh.

The bike felt long. I arrived at transition thinking dammit, that was way longer than it should have been.

The bike course was supposed to be 27 miles. The map described in the pre-race meeting was alleged to be 27 miles. The same map was in the athlete's guide. Mo and I puzzled over it. How would almost two loops of a 56 mile course equal 27 miles? Later, in transition, we found out it wasn't 27 mile - unless you got there early. Seems that early people clocked a 27 mile course because they were directed through a shorter course. Us later people, however, clocked anywhere from 31 to 32 miles. Bike Time 1:43:27

Now, I don't object to doing extra miles -- I don't -- so long as everyone else on the course is also doing extra miles. And that's what bothers me about this course: there are no timing mats on the course, except at transition, and therefore no way to keep all the athletes honest.

Transition 2 was quicker -- about 3 and a half minutes. And then I was off for the run, a 6.55 mile exposed trip around Tempe Town Lake. Mostly the run was a loop - but there was a little dogleg out and back - with no timing mat - that seemed to last forever. Run time: 1:05.

And then, at last, I finished!! I really thought I'd be happy to be done - overjoyed to have the course behind me for good, demons and bad juju fought forever. But it wasn't to be. Mostly, I was happy to finally have a finisher's medal to show for 3 trips to Tempe, and that's all. I didn't even want the finisher's pizza. Total time: 3:24:30, and a solid mid-pack finish (26/55 in my AG), which I think of as an improvement for me for this distance.

I currently feel no special need to go back. I may be throwing a tantrum.

I may be mad at Tempe.

Before SoMa, I did the Duke City Half Marathon - and scored a PR of 2:05. this may be why I was a bit tired in the SoMa run. Last weekend I ran the Veteran's Day 11K race - and scored 3rd place in my age group (1:02?). Small races are awesome that way - all the fast people stay home!!

What's next? Bandera. I am ever so slightly freaking out about doing a 50K ultra run, but I'm gonna try it. Also, I'm fer sher going to Big Sur!

In the meantime, there's some sleeping that needs done. I need to get right on that...

return to the abandoned blog

I have nothing to say.

you know, in retrospect, I was a bit burned out after the Colorado Relay. I needed a break.

Don't get me wrong - I love that run. I loved doing it with my people -- my Outlaw people -- and I love Colorado. Even so, I came away feeling tired. Not from lack of sleep - in fact, my relay teammates will tell you that I am a champion sleeper (I set a personal record in hours of sleep I scrounged during this relay).

No, I felt tired in a different way, and I may have thrown a tantrum about running. 2 legs topping out over 10,000 feet in questionable weather can do that to my psyche - which I find interesting to know. My second leg, clearing Vail Pass, was in the dark, and I left it feeling bruised and abused. And a little freaked out -- the dreaded ITB issue seemed to return.

The 3rd leg of the Colorado Relay, however, restored my faith in the world. I ran down the highway in the dim morning light - a leg with a net downhill for a change - and turned a corner to Glenwood Canyon. There I was greeted with the sight of the Colorado River in all it's glorious serenity. Dawn was breaking in Glenwood Canyon, and I had it all to myself.

I am so lucky!

To that point I'd run in slush, in the cold, in the dark, in the rain, and up hills with no oxygen. I was generally feeling poopy and hateful. So this last run changed my whole outlook. This gorgeous canyon with a vast, green, primordial river silently and peacefully doing its thing was really quite special. Just me, the canyon, and the Colorado river in the morning light. The only thing that would have made it more perfect would have been a wildlife experience...

...which is why I laughed out loud when I played chicken with a Racoon. Me and a racoon on the trail, and nobody else. I walked to him, he walked to me. I ran to him, he ran away.

I win!

but enough about that. this post is not about the Long Gone Colorado Relay, it's about singing the praises of the Speedo Endurance Fabric and the Suit That Would Not Die.

I have decided that swimming would not be so gear intensive a sport, were it not for the swimsuit factor. Normal swimsuits will last 2, maybe 3 months with good care. If I swim 2 to 3 times a week, I can count on seeing buttcrack through the back of a normal suit within 2 months. And these are good swimsuits made by real swim companies. A couple years ago, a swim mate told me about Speedo Endurance fabric, and said that while expensive, the suit lasts a really long time. At the time, the only Endurance suits were either black or blue, and came in one standard cut.

Some time early last year, I forgot my swimsuit for a scheduled swim. At some other time in my life, I might have taken this as a sign that I wouldn't get a swim that day, but I am notoriously stubborn about my training, and handy with a credit card. Plus, my gym is right next door to a decent sporting good shop. I took a chance that they might have something I need, and lo - they had a suit in my size. It was a hideous color (blue), but it was endurance fabric, and it was on sale for $35. Those endurance suits are usually quite expensive, so $35 was a steal. I took it as a sign that I should do my swim. I bought it, though I detested it, and wore it for that swim.

I'm of the opinion that the most flattering swimsuit color on me is black - because it's slimming. When I'm practically naked, I want a slimming color. The blue seemed like a hard, cold color. Unfriendly. I know Larisa says cold colors are best for me, but this is a swimsuit. I don't want to feel naked and cold. I want to feel slim and um, swimworthy.

Since it was not my favourite color (and it was so cheap to begin with) I intentionally tried to wear it out. I mean I really tried. I'm not kidding. I tried to kill that suit. Given my history with swimsuits I thought it would last 6 months, tops. I took it with me to outside pools, inside pools. I took it travelling. I took it to hot tubs where I thought the water was so harsh the fabric should melt. I wore it for every swim at Master's for over a year - that's 2 to 3 swims a week - and I rarely rinsed it. It was saturated with pool chemistry. I spun it in the auto spinner after every wear. It would go from pool, to spinner, to car - where it would sit and dry out - and back to the pool. That suit would not die. That cold, horrible, unfriendly blue suit could not be killed.

After a time I grew to feel less animosity about the color. I think it was something about swimming so hard in master's every morning that gave me a sense of pride in my swimming in general, and I warmed to the suit. It became less of the detested suit I wanted to kill, and more the suit I preferred for my morning swim.

Then, last week, I accidentally caught it in the lid of the spinner, which made a horrible noise. I removed the suit and it looked OK, just a little gnarled. It wasn't until the next swim that I discovered that the spinner had actually torn (or at the very least, weakened) the fabric in an inopportune place, and I put my thumb through it this morning.

I'm actually depressed now, that I killed the suit. On the plus side, I'm looking at Speedo's website and I see that they have new endurance suits - in nicer fabrics, and pretty patterns, and perhaps slightly more flattering cuts. So I'm hopeful I can replace old blue with something better.

But this blog post isn't about the swimsuit I tried to kill, it's about the Duke City Marathon! I ran half of it yesterday - and I had a PR! A PR people! I did it in 2:04:52, which is about 3 minutes faster than my Chips And Salsa PR from last year. Woo Woo! I had been traveling for 2 days before that, so I was really not sure I could pull a good time -- horrible food, lousy sleep, all of the usual crap that comes with travelling...But I did. And I'm happy. And a little sore. I felt like crap for the first half of the race, my stomach was not happy. I didn't feel I was working hard, I felt like it was just a goof off, a training run.

I looked at my watch at the turnaround and was pleasantly surprised to see myself at a little over 1:03. Dude - if I can keep this up, I'll be able to do well!

So I did.

And I had a gallon in the tank for the last 5K - which really blew my mind. I passed more people in the last 5 miles than I'd passed all day. Truly, for the first half, most were passing me! So yeah - I was real happy when I crossed the line at 2:05.

But this blog post isn't about my Half Mary PR, no. It's about the race I sorta thought I would never go back to do.

Yes, it's true: I signed up for SoMa at the last minute. I'm going back. My plans aren't ambitious, I am signed up for the Quarter. No, no burning ambition to show that race who's boss. My goal is to have a good race. Good.

Awesome is also acceptable.

I'll have more to say later.

now recruiting

Here's a fun thing to do...try a google image search on the words "Bay to Breakers" and you'll get a feel for just how chaotic and silly and fun (and naked) this race is.

Go on, I'll wait...

Are you back?

Heh. Pretty wild, eh?

21st Century Mom and I did this one last year and had a pretty unforgettable time. Between the salmon running and the wedding runners, the bands, the chaos, and the fantastic weather, it's the weirdest 12K ride ever.

This year we're hoping to get as many blogger athletes involved as we can. And we're hoping to maybe impose a theme on our group. We're not sure yet what to call the theme, but we think it'd be a blast if we all run in tutus.

All of us.

I have dibs on black.

I know that some out there are a little worried about the implications of wearing a fluffy skirt. I understand, tutus may not be quite your cup of tea, but we think it's totally in keeping with the spirit of the race.

Plus, with that many naked people around, you won't feel out of place with a little chiffon around your waist.

So what do you say? Would you like to join us on the 3rd Sunday in May? Registration will open Mid-January - but we don't think it's too early to start planning.

Bay to Breakers

Well, I'm going to go run the Bay to Breakers. Am I crazy, or does this race sound like a gas?!

Don't answer that...

I hear it's not so much a race as a crazy carnival. A party. I'm up for that! Anybody wanna come with me?

I'm hoping to get into Iron Horse the weekend after. I haven't heard from my Coach on whether this is a bad idea or not. I suspect it's not, he rolls like that. It will mean a lot of climbing between now and then.

Eep!

My leg was fine. Until today. I refused to blog about it because I've been very superstitious about the whole thing. It's IT Band. No, it's tendonitis. No, it's cancer. No, it's a freakin' mermaid tail. I don't care, I just want the thing to go away.

I have managed to keep working around it, through it, whatever - whilst wearing the crazy strap that goes under my knee. I don't know why it works, I don't think I have patellar tendonitis, but it works. That along with rolling on the roller below the knee, it was OK.

I clocked my longest run ever two weeks ago - 11 miles. I figured it must not be too bad if I can do that.

Until today.

I did speedwork yesterday, and distance today with hills. And the knee? She didn't like that. So you know what I said?

I remembered that time that Nytro had to have a Come To Jesus with her ankle. And I told my knee shut up you little bitch, because look over there - see? There's another one just like you. I can replace you. I can.

It worked for a mile or so. Now I need to stretch...A lot.

Don't make me swear on my blog...