Oh, my hamstrings!

This week my training switched into a new phase.  I moved from the "All miles are good miles" phase into the "I really am doing a half-ironman in three months" phase.  How's that different? Track workouts and aerobars.

It sounds like a bad diet.

Monday- I knew Meghan A. had moved her training to the track on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  I procrastinated texting her on Monday afternoon to confirm this, hoping that she just wouldn't get it in time, and maybe — just, maybe — I could save myself the painful experience of getting out of bed that early to run in the dark and cold, coaxing stiff, unaccustomed muscles into something resembling a tempo cadence.

No such luck.  She texted back immediately with the planned workout and a few exclamation points to make it look fun.  I waited to write her back that I was coming until late in the evening.

Tuesday-BCofD.  When the alarm went off, I briefly thought... "oh, she didn't get my text, she won't know if I don't show up".  But, I know Meghan better.  So, I scarfed down half a Mixed Nut Mojo Bar... "mixed nut" because it was a wonderful description of my mindset.. and everyone needs a little "mojo" at that hour.

At the track, we arrived simultaneously to watch the last of the early, early crazies on the HOTV team finish up their workout (heckling us as they went about their cool-down).  We eased it into with a long interval at 6:10ish pace.. and then did a quick set of 1000s and 800s at just below our goal race pace for this week-end (side note, I'm racing the Truffle Shuffle 4 mile in Eugene on Sunday).  Toward the end, I could feel my legs doing that little "I'm about to give out if you don't stop running so fast"-shuffle step.  Time to be done... I barely had time to stretch before work, so I promised myself a little yoga time in the evening.

Wednesday night- after a lunch-time swim with the CBATS (Corvallis Bad-Ass-Team-Swimmers) and being cooped up inside the rest of the day while the rest of Oregon was bathed in 50s and sunshine... I needed to work-out the rest of my kinks.  What better way than to ride the trainer (imagine this being said with sarcasm).  I actually was looking forward to it a little because I rented "Live Free or Die Hard"... excellent trainer-ride material.

I rocked the Orbea for 45 minutes while Bruce Willis took out a car with a helicopter jumped out of not one, but two movie vehicles and managed to crash a semi-truck into a jet fighter!  My ride would have been an hour, but I was taking a swig of my cheap-o water bottle... bit down on the nozzle to pull it out and pulled the whole frickin' lid off.  I got my shower while on the bike!  Ride, over!

But after the track workout and the riding in aero position for the longest time since August (OMG has it been that long?), I may need a massage that focus exclusively on my hammies.