Putting down the hammer

It's been maybe two weeks since the last update. I was met with frustration when an old forgotten injury made itself known again; a sharp pain in my right buttocks. It almost feels bone related sometimes, but I'm pretty sure it's some type of wired muscle cramp. In any case, the last time it happened it was fixed by using my arch supports which I had until then been neglecting.

It worked this time as well. I wish I didn't have to use them only because they make my shoes heavy and I feel like the alter my foot stroke. However, being able to run without excruciating pain is more important so the supports are back to stay.

Otherwise things are hard. Hammered on the bike for two days last weekend, maybe for an hour at a time. Did a good run or two as well. This weekend I rode across town to Lesley St laying down the hammer the entire way. It was very good. I did a brick run shortly after arriving home that felt good until, two minutes from home, both of my quads cramped simultaneously. I hobbled home a destroyed old man.

Remember: drink Gatorade on the bike. It will save you.

Swimming tonight and hopefully a couple of short hard runs and rides throughout the week. First race is less than two weeks out now so things are coming to a head. I feel pretty good overall though so hoefully I will surprise myself on the 7th.

Plans are being pushed to get back to Vancouver in the next two months. That would cut short my triathlon season here, but I would possibly be able to do the Vancouver triathlon and possibly the new half iron too!

I look forward to running the seawall again.

Windows of Opportunity

Sometimes you can't plan for everything.

Triathlon is a hard sport to train for because you're often stuck to schedules. If it's not the pool swim times then it's fitting a 4 hour ride into an already full day, or planning a long run, but only if it's not 4 degrees and raining.

Sometimes though, you find yourself with 30 minutes and no immediate responsibilities. You could sit at the computer or tv, snacking on rich foods and zapping your mind.

Or you could put on some shoes and run for a bit. Maybe it will hurt, maybe not. You'll definitely get stronger and faster though.

TV and computers can't do that for you...not yet anyway.

Short times, long goals

It seems hard to fit in the time required to make this goal possible. I was only able to swim for 20 minutes today before it was time to leave for the train. That and 3 people showed up to crowd the fast lane and I didn't feel like punching them in the face repeatedly as we passed one another.

Didn't really do anything last week. Swam monday, ran Friday. That was it. I told myself it was a rest week before the really hard stuff started. Today was supposed to be the hard stuff, but it was meh. Might run when I get home, but I still need to get the gf a birthday card. And puppy probably needs to poop. And i'll be hungry.

So many things to do, so little time.

Finding my inner Nemo

Another monday another swim. Wanted to avoid it a bit but I know I'm all but fucked if I don't get more swimming in before the race season starts. Besides, if I'm going to treat my job with blah, I had better treat my sports with some drive and determination.

I have decided that even though I may only get 20 or 25 minutes of swimming in on a given day, its better than nothing. Most of my race swims will only be that long anyway so good focused effort on these swims should provide sexy race day results.

Today's swim felt particularly good. The first few laps we're just phenomenal and I was shocked by how fast the bottom of the pool flew by. I tired fairly fast, but that initial burst made me hopeful that my old form was coming back. I felt pretty fluid through the rest of the swim and ended on a high note which always rocks.

Will try really hard to live up to my personal promises and get in the water again on Wednesday, to try once more to find (and keep) that elusive Nemo.

Head down, grit teeth, plod on

One of those days.

I suppose drinking 4 pints of beer the night before a long ride is not generally considered a good idea, but I went ahead and did it anyway. It was our friend Kris' birthday and I really needed to unwind after a pretty stressful week of work (tax season at the private bank...yay).

When I awoke this morning, I had the usual shitty symptoms; dry everything, hangover smell, the works. My legs also ached for some reason. It's not like I did any running yesterday, but they didn't seem to care. Just standing still had the same feeling as being 80km into a ride, that growing, dull pain that shrinks your world to just your body and your bike, and the painful relationship they share.

Rain was in the forecast for the afternoon, but I figured I'd get home before it hit. As I sit here now, 10 minutes after arriving, it appears I was right. Thunder booming outside never sounded so sweet, to know that I'm not stuck out in the open with it.

The wind was coming out of the southwest again. Great. Another 50km of pushing against God's maniacal breath. Unfortunately, unlike last week's bright spirits and willingness to tackle the unknown, this week I was just a miserable wreck. Again, the beer probably didn't help, nor did the sore legs. I was never tempted to give up, but I was a bit of an emotional basketcase, wanting to break into tears whenever the wind kicked up, or simply because the sound of it constantly filling my ears was driving me mad.

This time I made it to the south side of Lake Ontario. That felt good. I didn't make it as far as I wanted (was going to do two loops of the Hamilton Beach Trail) but it was longer that last week which was very rewarding.

While riding, I had expected the rain to come from the southwest, where the wind was coming from. By the time I hit the turnaround in Hamilton though, I saw that the storm had flanked me and was now darkening the skies all across the north side of the lake, my route home.

I'm not sure if the speed I was going could be considered "booking it," but I put the hammer down for most of the ride home.

It hurt.

A lot.

By the time I hit Port Credit, I was done. Legs throbbing, wind blowing against me again (first from the east, then the west...wtf?). I almost cried when I was nailed by a steady breeze turning north on Southdown road. What did I do to deserve this?

In the end I made it home, a victory I guess. Small occasional drops of rain made themselves felt on my bare arms, but I managed to beat the storm home.

I think I'm going to pass out for a while. I hope the dog doesn't shit herself.